


Minecraft, But It's Real Manhunt

by AUcrafter



Category: Dream Team - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Muffinteers - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: All relationships are platonic, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Minecraft Manhunt, RPF, dream team, minecraft but it's real life, minecraft youtubers - Freeform, muffinteers - Freeform, some (fantasy) violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 87,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26224435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AUcrafter/pseuds/AUcrafter
Summary: Basically a Minecraft AU with the Dream Team + Bad (The Muffinteers?). Bad, Sapnap, and George are hunting Dream. Will he be able to beat the ender dragon and redeem himself before they kill him?
Relationships: BadBoyHalo & GeorgeNotFound, Dream & GeorgeNotFound, Dream & OC cat (Flame), Dream & Sapnap & GeorgeNotFound & BadBoyHalo (eventual), Sapnap & BadBoyHalo, Sapnap & GeorgeNotFound, Sapnap & GeorgeNotFound & BadBoyHalo
Comments: 279
Kudos: 483





	1. Quick Author's Note

Hey y'all, I'm your author this evening. I'm going to be writing this AU and hopefully I'll finish it eventually (I don't have a very good track record with my writing though, so we'll see).

I will say that I saw something similar (at least in concept) here on Ao3 by user Numanum with their story The Run And Go, and that is what originally inspired me to start writing this, even though since then it has become its own thing. I actually recently checked their story, and it looks like they've departed quite heavily from what I originally read. If you still want to read their story then of course, go ahead, I am sure it is as well written as I remember, but there are a fair few tags that I don't remember being there (with some tags signalling content that I, and I am sure quite a few others, are uncomfortable with). They are very separate works, even though I was initially motivated to write this story through reading the few chapters they had up. There are also many other Manhunt AUs that I have also seen, so there is no shortage if you are interested in this sort of AU! 

A few more brief notes:

 _Shipping:_ I really don't plan on having ships really being a big part of this story (I'm more interested in the dynamics, action, and practicing my writing). I might hint at some stuff (or heck, maybe later on I'll decide to go all in), but I really enjoy the friendships the boys share so I'm probably not going to do a lot there. I honestly have a lot of complicated feelings about shipping so I'll need to decide where I stand before I make a call on whether or not to include anything of the sort. There's a lot of other writing out there if you're more interested in the shipping aspects of these guys. _(Hey hey hey, as of 27/09/20, or the 27th of September, I have decided that there will be no explicit shipping in this story. I am still writing affectionate shit between the boys, but the intent is purely platonic because not everything affectionate action is supposed to be romantic. I may do stories in the future where there is romantic intent, but that will probably be purely by request. I personally do not have any strong issues with shipping as long as you keep it respectful, but I don't think it fits very well with this story. Thank you.)_

 _What I won't tolerate:_ I assume most of you are decent people, and so I expect you to be respectable in the comments section as well as DMs. I won't tolerate the basic shitty stuff (homophobia, transphobia, sexism, racism, etc.), so if I see any slurs or bigoted statements in the comments, my DMs, or if someone tells me that someone else is harassing them in relation to this story, I will take whatever action I need to. However, like I said, I trust that most of you are not like that. 

_Requests/suggestions:_ Feel free to suggest things for this story (or for another story)! You can do this in the comments or in my own DMs. Feel free to drop some criticism and feedback as well, I'd love to hear it and engage with any readers.

As a sidenote, this fanfic originally started on Wattpad! Some formatting will be more similar to the type found there, and I am less familiar with ao3 when it comes to creating, so please bear with me!

Also, if you didn't know, this is a story based on the series "Minecraft Manhunt" with Dream, GeorgeNotFound, Sapnap, and BadBoyHalo (their actual names play a (fairly small) part in this story, in which case they are Clay, George, Nick, and Darryl respectively). If you somehow have not heard of them and you're reading this, check them out! And just so it's very clear, I'm writing this with their personas (and how I perceive and project onto them) in mind. I do not know them personally and I won't pretend to.

Let's get started, shall we?


	2. Posters

The forest was quiet, peaceful even. Bees busily buzzed as they went about their work and wild chickens clucked cheerily as they wandered through the short grass. There was nothing to signal that there was anything wrong here, or even that there was any wrong anywhere else. 

Sitting in the forest was a young man, about twenty years of age, crafting a sword by his own crafting table. He had fashioned the workbench quickly but it would do the job it was meant to, and so it did.

Fingers moving precisely and with purpose, the man crafted a sword out of stone collected from a nearby cave. He worked quickly and deftly, humming a soft tune to accompany the peaceful sounds of the forest, before finally finishing and lifting up his creation to admire it. It was a crude weapon, but a weapon nonetheless. 

A clanking of bones echoing somewhere from within the forest made the man tense, sitting silently and listening. An undead groan from nearby caused the hairs to stand up on his neck.

Everything was still. The bees stopped buzzing and even the wind seemed to pause as it lazily made its way through the leaves of the forest trees.

Then, an arrow, shooting past the young man's face, lodged itself into a tree not five metres behind him. He gulped nervously, silently thanking any gods out there that the arrow had missed its target by a few centimetres.

A headshot would mean certain death, no second chances.

Looking to see where the arrow had originated from, the man spied a skeleton hiding in the shade of a tree. He ran towards it, making a point of moving from side to side so the bony creature had no chance of hitting him as a target. Drawing his sword, he struck the monster. It was helpless against his melee attacks, and after a few swift hits it crumbled into a pile of bones and dust on the floor. 

The man looked at the bones laying on the ground, contemplating his odds of possibly finding a wolf or needing to grow a farm. After a few seconds of silent deliberation, he picked up the bones that hadn't been reduced to dust and placed them in the bag that hung from his shoulders. The weight gain was almost negligible, and he was prepared to return to his crafting when another groan reached his ears.

This time he was ready for the attack, turning to face the zombie before it could strike him, but it startled him just the same. There's nothing quite like turning and coming face to face with an undead monster gaping at you and reaching in your direction with its rotting arms. 

He swung at the zombie but missed, allowing the creature to swipe at him and leave long stinging scratches with its broken nails. The swordsman winced but swung again, this time hitting his target squarely below the ear. 

The undead monster let out another groan, almost like a mangled screech, as the sword sunk deep into its neck. The rotting smell was almost suffocating as the man pulled his sword out, covered in thick black blood, and kicked the zombie over so it fell on its back. Standing over it, he plunged the sword deep into the monster's head, twisting it and waiting until the grabbing arms dropped to the ground, never to move again. 

Once again, the monster was reduced to dust and little more. The man was left with a chunk of the creature's own flesh as well as a strange paper that must have gotten caught in the tattered pants it had worn. After wrinkling his nose at the rotting meat in disgust, the man bent over and grabbed the paper, looking at it with curiosity shining in his eyes.

The sheet was in bad condition and had noticeable bite marks on it, with a chunk missing completely from one of the corners. It was also filthy, and the man had to squint and guess at some of the words that were more dirtied. 

As proclaimed by the bold letters at the top, the paper was a Wanted poster (or rather a "Wante" poster, due to a certain monster's curious diet). There was no painted recreation of the wanted suspect, as there usually was, so that meant that either the criminal was so notorious everyone knew what they looked like, or perhaps nobody knew what the outlaw looked like. Given the fact that a physical description was provided on the poster, the man guessed the former. 

As the man continued to read the filth-covered poster, one of his eyebrows slowly started to rise. He looked almost impressed but not very surprised that the dirty blond hair, green hoodie, and white smiley mask were his own. The man got a chuckle out of seeing his hair being described as "the colour of rotting wheat" and his hoodie called "a mess of cloth more obnoxiously green than that of slime". Writers today were becoming much more creative with their language, apparently.

Finally the man's bright green eyes flitted to the near bottom of the page where the name "Dream" was printed in all caps above a pretty hefty amount of emeralds promised to whoever could bring in the outlaw dead or alive.

"Well," Dream spoke quietly to himself, his voice a bit hoarse after little use, "I guess I'm finally famous."

He chuckled a bit at his joke, the old memory of him and his friends shouting about their coming fame flitting briefly to the front of his mind before retreating back to the dark corner it hid in. Dream shook his head, his chuckling softening before melting away completely. Those days were long gone and he was a new and different person. Where once there had been a boy, shouting and laughing, there now stood a man so cunning and experienced that villagers from all around heard his name and trembled.

He let go of the paper and walked away, letting it fall gently to the ground without bothering to read the text at the very bottom of the page. There wasn't much, only a few words detailing who the outlaw should be turned in to. Dream walked back towards his crafting table, folding it up and returning it into his bag with little to no weight gain once again. He scraped his sword clean with a few sticks and blades of grass, not wanting to carry around the rotting blood the zombie had left behind. Donning the ever-smiling mask that granted him his infamy he was, in fact, completely ignorant to his current situation.

The hunters were after him.


	3. Campfire

The grass in the meadow rustled melodically, the wind blowing gently onto every blade. On the outskirts of the clearing, a small flock of sheep grazed, their shepherd long gone in one way or another. If you listened close enough, a village bell could be faintly heard once in a while, signalling its proximity to the glade. Everything felt comfortable and lively.

Suddenly, one of the sheep farthest away from the glade poked its head up from the grassy feast. It stared into the forest blankly, unable to comprehend the noise it had just heard.

Running.

Someone was running through the forest, approaching the clearing. By the various shouts and laughs also travelling through the forest air they were not alone.

The sheep baaed a warning to its companions and they began to flee from whatever threat could be approaching them so quickly. Woolly creatures scattered every which way into the woods, their own safety their top priority.

Footsteps, quick and fast against the ground, got nearer and nearer to the near-empty clearing. Straggling behind was a single sheep, the sweet grass getting to its head and causing it to ignore any instincts for self-preservation. Being so entranced by its grazing the animal never noticed the footsteps enter the clearing and slow, nor did it hear the sword being drawn as a single pair of footsteps quietly approached it.

After a single shrieking baa the sheep was slain, only leaving behind its woolly coat and a scrap of raw flesh. One of the three players in the clearing kneeled by the loot, examining it thoughtfully before deeming it useful enough to place in his bag.

"How much wool you got, Bad?" a different player asked, looking at the other man excitedly. The sheep slayer stood, towering over the other two men, and rifled through his near-full bag briefly.

"Almost enough for a bed," the man replied, looking at his shorter friend. The shorter man sighed in annoyance, complaining about how he hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in days. Bad nodded in silent agreement, adjusting his glasses before his eyes landed on the other man in the glade.

"George, what are you doing?" he asked the last player, laughing as he spoke. The shortest man stood, a small red flower held in his hand.

"It's just in case I get a helmet," George replied hastily, gently placing the flower into his bag. Bad's eyes met with those of the other man in the clearing, giggling as the other rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Anyway guys, we should set up camp."

Bad's statement was met with a small sigh of relief from the darkest-haired in the group, who immediately sank to the ground and refused to do anything.

"C'mon Sapnap, you're young and supposed to be full of energy! Help us set up," Bad whined as he looked down at his friend. Sapnap groaned and rolled onto his side to completely hide his face with his arms, pretending to fall asleep. Bad shook his head and smiled fondly, deciding to leave his black bag decorated with red trimming by his "sleeping" companion before walking off into the woods for some fire kindling.

When he returned, carrying a few sticks stuffed into his belt, the two men he had left behind were bickering amongst each other. Bad had a suspicion that Sapnap had started it, but with these two you never really knew.

When George saw him, he hushed immediately, looking at him with guilt present in his eyes. Sapnap turned and saw him as well, a frown present on his face. Bad twitched involuntarily under the sudden audience, forcing a smile as he walked up to the other two.

"Whatcha talking about?" he asked awkwardly. Sapnap stared at the ground, and even though George kept his head level he also refused to look at his two companions.

"Nothing important," George replied quietly. Bad saw Sapnap twitch out of the corner of his eye and sighed. Dropping the firewood at his feet, the eldest walked over to where Sapnap sat before kneeling to search through his bag. George shivered in the chill Harvest air.

Finally finding what he had been looking for, Bad retrieved the flint and steel and wordlessly began to strike the two together to spark the kindling into a flame. It took a few tries but it finally worked, Bad sighing in relief at the new warmth. He was wearing warm clothes that covered almost his entire body, and even a hood to protect his head from the elements, but the Harvest winds were still piercingly cool to his uncovered face and hands.

 _"They are nothing compared to the freezing Death,"_ he thought ruefully, before glancing at his companions. Sapnap had pulled his headband down over his eyes and Bad couldn't tell whether or not he was sleeping as the shorter boy rested his back against a mossy stone. When Bad looked at George, the brunet met his eyes briefly before quickly looking away. For some reason, George had decided to leave with no top on other than a simple T-shirt, bringing his signature goggles but not even a single coat. The season of Death would hurt him most.

Bad stared into the fire, deciding to remove the tools and items hooked in his belt. When he did so, they returned to full size and remained that way as he rested them on top of his bag. He decided to gently poke Sapnap in the arm and the shorter boy stirred before slowly lifting up the strip of cloth obscuring his vision, meeting Bad's eyes with a questioning and tired look.

"Do you need anything?" Bad whispered. The smaller boy opened his mouth for a second before shutting it again and answering the question with a simple shake of his head. Despite the response, Bad reached into his bag once more and retrieved a clean portion of white wool, offering it to the other man. Taking it with gratitude shining in his eyes, Sapnap placed the material on the rock behind him so he would have a soft place to rest his head. Murmuring a weary "thank you", Sapnap once again pulled his headband over his eyes and let himself ease into slumber.

Bad looked at his friend fondly before standing up, careful not to wake the sleeping man next to him. As he walked off to the side, he could feel George's eyes on him and turned to meet them. The other man opened his mouth to speak but Bad quickly put a finger over his own mouth in an attempt to shush him, looking pointedly at Sapnap and gesturing for George to come to him.

George sighed quietly and stood up off the stump he had been sitting on. He stretched and walked over to where Bad was assembling a crafting table.

"Do you have any iron?" the taller man asked quietly. George nodded and reached into his dark blue bag, fishing out the iron within seconds before passing it to his friend.

They stood in silence for a moment while Bad started to work on making himself a new sword, his hands moving clumsily but effectively as he sharpened the metal into a blade.

"I'm worried about him," Bad murmured suddenly, eyes focused entirely on what he was crafting. George was surprised for a moment.

"Who?" he questioned, although he was fairly certain he already knew the answer.

"Sapnap, you muffinhead," Bad said softly, looking George in the eyes with the trace of a smile on his face. George turned to look back towards the fire where their companion, his mouth hanging open slightly in his sleep, was still sitting against the mossy boulder.

"He's so young, so inexperienced," Bad continued. George turned his head back to face him, his brown eyes meeting Bad's hazel ones. Hazel eyes that were so soaked in anxiety and exhaustion, George could see it.

"I don't know what the leaders were thinking, sending him out here with us," George voiced, nodding slightly as he looked at the ground. "This is a dangerous mission, but it's his first one."

"Yeah," Bad agreed quietly, "I'm worried that they _want_ him to get killed or something."

"They probably want us all killed, sending us after such a dangerous criminal with almost nothing," George spat with contempt. "We just spent all day gathering supplies and we have almost nothing that's of any use."

Bad looked at George with surprise. The shorter brunet rarely talked about how he genuinely felt, especially when it came to the hunter organisation. Sure, he talked a lot (and screamed even more), but it took a while to get to know George before he'd really start opening up. Even when you did know him, like Bad did, he didn't open up often.

George stared at the ground before closing his eyes and sighing deeply. He looked back up and into Bad's eyes awkwardly, "sorry, I'm just a little frustrated."

"Hey," Bad put a hand on George's shoulder, giving him a small smile. "We all are, I get it. Just don't say anything like that in front of Sapnap or another hunter, okay?"

George smiled back and nodded, relieved that his outburst wasn't taken too harshly, "yeah, I get that."

Bad nodded back, taking a step away from George before his eyes landed on Sapnap once more. He smiled fondly before looking back to the man standing in front of him.

"Try not to get in fights with him too much, alright? We need to work together as a group and we can't do that if you guys are having hissy fits all the time," Bad said gently, amusement dancing in his eyes. George rolled his eyes but laughed quietly.

"Whatever, Bad."

"Hey!" Bad exclaimed, still trying to keep his volume down but unable to stop himself from giggling a little. "I'm the oldest one here, you have to listen to me!"

George chuckled again, simply nodding. Bad smiled again, looking back down at his sword so he could finish tying up the hilt (which amounted to a couple of sticks tied to each other and the iron blade by thick grass braids). He had no idea how the whole thing stayed together, but somehow it always did. Lifting the clumsily made sword above his head to get a good look, he frowned at it before shrugging and placing it in the scabbard he had attached to his belt.

"Better than the last piece of junk," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. He turned back to George, who was standing nearby and tracing his fingers on the workbench, completely entranced by it. A smile slipped onto Bad's face, happy that his friend had only stayed to keep him a bit of company. His eyes flitted over the whole scene: George absentmindedly fiddling with nothing in particular, Sapnap dozing comfortably in the background, the fire burning lazily in the middle of the small clearing. It was a cosy, familiar scene.

Except there was something wrong. Bad couldn't quite put his finger on it yet, but for some reason he felt uneasy. He looked to George, who had now turned his head and was peering into the forest. They hadn't noticed it before, but the groans and hisses of the monsters out in the forest were present all around them, seemingly trapping them inside the glade.

An arrow flew out from behind the two awake men, soaring past them and landing in the fire only to burst into flames instantly. George shrieked and they both spun around, ready to fight. Despite their focus being on the armed threat aiming at them through the trees, Bad still managed to hear a hissing sound behind them.

He whirled around and saw a green, hideously deformed creature by Sapnap, just starting to swell as it prepared to explode. His eyes widened in horror and he started to run towards the other man, Sapnap's headband still covering the eyes of the recently awakened. He had no idea what was about to happen, his senses still muddled with sleep.

The echo of Bad screaming Sapnap's name echoed throughout the forest. It was only slightly louder than the explosion that had preceded it. 


	4. Arrow

Dream had been wandering through the forest for hours, so long that it was now the middle of the night. He was eating his very last piece of food, an apple that had fallen from a tree, worrying that tonight he would finally die to the monstrous creatures lurking in the dark. He stopped, rifling through his bag to see if there was a stray porkchop in there somewhere he had missed. Hell, even a rotten chunk of flesh could get him through the night if it had to.

But there was nothing more.

He sank to the ground, back resting against a tree. Hugging his legs to his chest, he listened carefully to all the mob noises around him. He carefully drew his handcrafted stone sword out of his belt and laid it next to him, ready to grab it if the moment called. A shriek came out from somewhere within the forest, but Dream was too tired to take notice.

He shouldn't be sleeping on the ground, he knew that. But as the monster noises seemed to fade and the night felt peaceful again, his couldn't stop his eyelids from slipping closed for just a moment.

_Boom!_

He shot up, wide awake and with sword in hand. The groans of the undead were present, but not very close. He hesitated, thinking.

The explosion probably came from a creeper, right? Those ghastly green monsters would only explode for players though. Were there players nearby?

As all these thoughts were whirling through his head, an ear-piercing scream reached his ears. He couldn't make out what the scream was (there was definitely a "no!" at the end, but the first part was a mystery), but this confirmed his idea that there were players nearby. He began to run through the forest in the direction of the scream, taking extra care to stay as quiet as possible.

His stomach groaning, he hoped that the player(s) had food he could steal. That apple did next to nothing for him.

Finally, he spotted a dim light glowing through the trees. Thankfully there were no monsters nearby: whatever players had been here must have led them away.

As he approached the glow, he slowed significantly, aware that any players could have remained at what was, presumably, their campsite. Peering through the trees, he found a small clearing. A fire was beginning to burn out in the middle, and very close to it was the hole left by a creeper's explosion.

Now that he was so close, Dream could hear the soft crackling of the fire as it consumed any twigs that were still left behind as its kindling. He could also hear another sound, this one much more human.

Someone was in pain.

Carefully, oh so carefully, Dream stepped into the clearing. A black and red bag was sitting by the fire, hopefully filled with stuff. Glancing around the rest of the glade he could see a crafting table on the opposite end. The soft moans were coming from there.

Quietly making his way over to the bag, he pushed aside the rudimentary tools on top and started digging through the bag's contents. Whoever was on the other side of the clearing said something, a single questioning word, but their voice was so laden with pain that it was incomprehensible.

Smiling and thanking any gods that might exist, Dream felt a few steaks in the bag, pulling them out and scarfing one down before gleefully shoving the rest into his own bag. He found a few raw pieces of meat as well, which were also given a new home in the dark green shoulder bag.

Curiously, Dream found another poster just like he had the other day, although this one was folded neatly into a pocket and not stuffed into a zombie's pants.

 _"Were these players hunting me?"_ Dream wondered, skimming over the page before dropping it to the ground. He dug into the same pocket again and found a painted recreation of himself, one that he was not expecting to find. It wasn't of Dream's actual face, of course, just a headshot with his smiley mask. The only facial features present were his lips, as they simply couldn't fit under the circular shape.

Dream nodded to himself thoughtfully before folding the picture again and placing it in his own bag. It wasn't much, as anyone who saw him with the mask could easily identify him, but he wanted to level the playing field with the hunters as much as he could.

Finally done looting, Dream looked up before flinching in surprise. He hadn't noticed it before, but the boulder behind the bag was sprinkled with drops of rose-red blood. The kind of blood that could only come from a player.

Given the fact that the explosion had almost included the boulder in its blast radius, a player's blood wasn't overly surprising. Dream was simply stunned that there was _so much._ As another soft cry came from across the clearing, Dream wondered if it was the explosion victim who had been making so many pained noises into the dark night.

Standing once more, Dream retrieved the white mask from his bag and slipped it on. The hunter would know who Dream was, yes, but by the sounds the other was making they would be in no state to try and fight him. Dream was free to hide his face as he wished.

Walking over to the other side of the clearing, Dream soon found the source of all the cries and moans filling the glade. He had been hidden by the workbench before, but on the ground there was a young man curled up with his eyes shut tight. His left hand was clutching his right arm, where an arrow had penetrated his flesh. Judging by the green mixture coating the arrow, the man was being poisoned.

The man gave another gentle moan of pain, curling up further. He shivered as the cold night winds brushed past his skin.

 _"That's what you get for wearing a shirt in the middle of Harvest,"_ Dream thought, looking down at the shivering mess of a player and wondering if he should just run and leave this man to die.

Dream crouched, looking at the man closer. He couldn't have been much older than Dream and was most likely younger by Dream's guess. His features were soft and if this man wasn't supposed to be hunting him, Dream would have assumed that the man was quite sweet.

Suddenly the man's eyes lazily opened, his brown eyes staring right at Dream. There was recognition, yes, and a whole lot of fear, but there was another emotion swimming in the young man's eyes that confused Dream at first.

Resignation.

This man was prepared to die, maybe even by Dream's own hand. Despite this, the brunet stirred and lifted an arm towards Dream before sinking to the ground completely, a small groan escaping his mouth. When the man shivered again, Dream decided on what to do.

He picked the man up, gently so as not to cause the wound to worsen, reaching with one arm under the man's knees and the other across his back and perpendicular to his spine. After straightening and adjusting the man in his arms slightly, Dream walked back over to the dying fire.

Sitting the man down so the brunet could lean against a stump, Dream grabbed some sticks out of his green bag and began to throw them on the fire. The fire grew once more and the temperature nearby rose with it.

Turning his attention back to the wounded hunter, Dream saw that the man's eyes were now slightly open, watching Dream cautiously through long eyelashes.

Dream crawled over to the man who, despite his state, still tried to retreat away from him. His expression suddenly morphed into one of great pain, silently telling Dream that the poison was still affecting him.

"Do you have any milk?" Dream whispered gently, choosing to keep a bit of distance between him and the dying man. The other nodded once, looking at the black bag resting across from them before hoarsely replying, "there."

Crawling over to the black and red bag, Dream reached around inside for a moment before retrieving a bucket covered with a lid. Peering inside revealed the milky contents and the dirty blond turned back towards the wounded man, ready to give it to him.

But the brunet wasn't sitting by the stump anymore. In fact, he was quietly crawling away, unable to go any faster due to injuries Dream had yet to see.

The taller man stood up, getting to the hunter's side in a few quick steps. Sitting down cross-legged, Dream flipped the other over onto his back, seeing brown eyes staring at him with frenzied terror.

"Please don't eat me," the brunet whispered weakly, staring up at Dream's mask. Dream was taken aback, unsure of how to respond.

"I won't?" he offered, his tone a mix between insulted and confused. The hunter coughed roughly but didn't reply otherwise so Dream sat him up, supporting the man's back with his arm as he pulled him into his lap. He should have left the man to die if he was going to be so much trouble.

"Here," the dirty blond said gruffly, bringing the bucket of milk to the other man's lips. The brunet cracked his mouth open and felt the milk pour into his substance, shutting his eyes gently as he felt the poison ebb away.

Eventually all the milk had been drained and Dream pulled away the bucket to set it on the ground. A few drops of milk dripped down from the hunter's mouth and onto his light blue shirt, bringing a bit of colour back to his very pale face as he flushed in embarrassment. This is clearly not how he expected his night going.

Turning his attention to the arrow wound in the man's arm, Dream cringed at the amount of blood. Monsters were gory sometimes, yes, but when they had blood it was always thick and slow. This blood was young, red, and fucking _everywhere_ , even staining the hunter's shirt.

Subconsciously turning the man onto his left side so he could get a better look at the injury, Dream heard a small noise of questioning come from the brunet, not refined enough to be an actual word. Dream murmured a few comforting words as a response.

Luckily, a long time ago, Dream had been a nurse's apprentice. He knew vaguely how to treat an arrow wound but the glaring issue was that the arrow should be left in the man's arm, so he could have treatment from an actual professional.

Hesitating, the man asked, "can you go to a village and get help there?" The wounded hunter twitched hearing this, realising that his wound was serious. He gave a quiet "no" in response to Dream's question, causing Dream to groan softly.

Dream was already getting jumpy, glancing to the forest between looking at the man's bloodied arm. He shouldn't have stayed, so why did he? It was just going to get him captured or killed, and it's not like he wanted or needed the moral high ground here. Being a wanted criminal kinda does that for you.

"Alright," Dream muttered, reaching into his bag and letting the man fall onto his own chest awkwardly. Pulling out a, hopefully clean enough, piece of wool, Dream rolled the man back onto his side. The hunter shuffled awkwardly, clearly bothered by his position laying in the lap of, and with his back to, the man he was hunting.

"Open your mouth," Dream continued, and he felt the man hesitate before cautiously obeying. Dream put the wool into the man's mouth, receiving an indignant and muffled noise in response.

"Bite down if you need to," Dream muttered, before grabbing the arrow as far down as he could and yanking it out harshly.

The man barely had time to react to Dream's statement before shrieking loudly in pain. It was muffled, of course, but still louder than Dream would have liked given their current situation. Tears welled up in the brunet's eyes as his back arched and his arm seared with pain. The gash in his arm had widened, and it was so deep you could see the scraped bone where the arrow had rested. He was lucky that the bone hadn't shattered.

Dream looked down with horror at the man writhing in pain in his lap. The arrow was still clutched in his hand, absolutely covered with blood and the poisonous substance, and he did his best to toss it as far as he could without disturbing the other man too much.

Having to examine the open wound for any arrow fragments almost made Dream throw up. He might be a criminal, but there was no denying that he was squeamish around blood. He gave a weak "oh gods" before looking closer, thankful that there weren't any noticeable fragments. He didn't think he could handle reaching into someone else's bloodied arm tonight.

The brunet sobbed, the sounds muffled by the wool still shoved in his mouth. Dream thought about removing it but decided solidly against it when the brunet stiffened in pain again and ground his teeth together through the soft material. He was going to get even more hurt without that protection.

Knowing that the wound had to be bound up fast, Dream looked at the man's shirt. He was already so cold, so removing a strip would not be helpful in the long run, but maybe the shirt was long enough so it wouldn't matter?

Dream picked up his sword and the man screamed and wiggled in terror, unsure of Dream's intentions. If he was about to be killed because of an injury like a horse gets shot after it breaks a leg, the hunter was about to put up a damn good fight. Or at least the best he could given the current circumstances.

Sighing, Dream put his weapon down slightly, not wanting to hurt the man and unable to safely cut a strip of cloth when he was thrashing so hard. He tried to calm the man using his hands, but comfort was never Dream's strong point. To the terrified man, the hands on his body were there only to keep him down while Dream dealt a fatal blow.

"Stop it!" Dream yelled in frustration, stunning the man. The dirty blond sighed, running his fingers through his hair before realising that they were covered in the other man's blood.

"You're going to hurt yourself if you do that," Dream said quietly. The other man stayed stiff for a moment before relaxing in Dream's lap. Grabbing his sword again, Dream carefully cut the man's shirt so he could tear off a strip. The hunter only twitched this time.

Holding the strip, Dream wrapped it around the gaping wound, hoping that there would be enough pressure for it to heal quickly. His eyes ran up and down the other man's body, looking for any serious injuries that he could treat. There were a couple of rips in the man's jeans where he assumed a spider, or multiple, had bitten the brunet, but those would heal soon enough on their own.

As the man shivered again, Dream realised how cold the man was. Simply touching his arm made Dream flinch away from the freezing skin. Almost not knowing what he was doing, Dream pulled off his hoodie revealing the dark green shirt underneath. He sat the man up again, noticing that his eyes were glazed over as his body focused on ignoring the pain and simply keeping the young man alive. Hastily, he pulled the lime green hoodie over the other man's head, hoping that it would keep him warm enough so all his efforts would not go to waste. The man was still for a moment before pulling his arms through the sleeves on the hoodie, refusing to look at Dream.

"You're a fucking idiot," Dream started to ramble, pulling the wool out of the man's mouth and rubbing his back when the brunet started spitting and coughing. "Really? Wearing a shirt in the middle of Harvest? There's no way you'll make it to Planting season, the Death chills will get you for sure."

The young man's face flushed for the second time with embarrassment, and Dream wished that his mask was a little bigger so it could hide the smile that crawled onto his face at the sight.

"Well now you're going to die," the smaller man mumbled, gesturing at Dream's thin shirt. As if on cue, Dream shivered, wrinkling his nose and declaring, "Nah, I'm a lot less of an idiot than you."

The other man chuckled awkwardly and their eyes met. Dream silently wished that he wasn't wearing his mask so their eyes could truly connect. He rubbed his mask subconsciously, feeling something wet on his hand and sighing when he realised that it was the hunter's blood.

"Anyway," Dream started, pausing as he stared nothing in particular over the brunet's shoulder, "I should be going. Stay safe."

Dream tried to get up but was held down by the weight of the young man still sitting in his lap. He looked into the brown eyes again, confused. He didn't want to shove the man, especially when fear mixed with gratitude was still swirling in his eyes, an odd combination to be sure.

Something else floated into the chocolate coloured eyes, and Dream realised too late what it was before the man punched him in the face and knocked him onto his back, clutching his mask in pain.

As the man ran off into the woods and Dream recovered from the impact the strike had, he thought about the last emotion in the other's eyes.

Regret. An apology for what he was about to do.

He had to leave before the hunter could warn his friends.

He had to leave _now_.


	5. Water

A searing pain was ripping through Sapnap, so overpowering that his mouth fell open to let out a scream but no sound came. His entire world was the absolute agony his body was experiencing, the cause of such pain still unclear to him. One minute he was sleeping peacefully, the next he was rudely awakened by George's signature shriek, and not seconds later his body felt like it was being torn apart, accompanied by a scream that wasn't his own.

Barely holding onto consciousness, he slowly became aware of the fact that he was moving quickly through the forest, headband slipping off his eyes and back onto his forehead. Staring towards the ground with blurry vision, the black pants and top of his friend swam back and forth in front of Sapnap's eyes. He felt himself bouncing up and down slightly as Bad ran through the woods and away from the clearing where they had been camping.

He wasn't sure where they were going, or even what had happened, but those thoughts could wait as Sapnap was still heavily preoccupied with the pain stabbing into his left side. As he continued to bounce up and down on Bad's shoulder, he hissed involuntarily when an especially tender spot was struck. Hearing this the older man noticeably slowed down, being extra careful with his friend and rubbing his back in a way that was clearly meant to be comforting but due to Bad's trembling hands only helped scare Sapnap all the more.

Finally, the trees thinned and Bad soon stopped, placing Sapnap down on the ground. The younger man became aware of the sound of running water as his ears pounded, feeling soft wet sand beneath him. He blinked and stared up at the brunet kneeling to his left. Even through Sapnap's unclear vision, he could tell that Bad had been crying.

Slowly, with his hands still trembling, Bad drew some water out of the river and poured it onto his friend's left side. Sapnap felt some of the pain ebb away as the soothing liquid ran down his body. A groan escaped his mouth and out of the corner of his eye he noticed Bad stiffen.

They continued this way in silence, with Bad solemnly pouring water onto his friend's burning wounds. Sapnap felt the cold wind brush against his side as cloth fragments were swept away by the water, vaguely confused as to why his shirt had ripped in the first place. The younger man's vision slowly swam into clarity and his eyes focused onto his hooded friend. Hazel eyes met his for only a moment before glancing away in shame. Sapnap desperately wanted them to look back so he could focus on every splash and speck of colour to distract himself from the aching in his side.

Bad got up slowly, pointedly staring at Sapnap's injuries before walking over to the younger's bag. He had dropped it only a metre or so away when Bad had pulled him off his shoulder and now the older man was rifling through it, mumbling incoherently to himself.

When Bad stood up, he held a banner in his hands. Sapnap remembered grabbing it before he left home, as it had been a trophy his late father received after he had defended their village from a raid. He wanted to keep the memory of the man with him, determined that he could fight as strongly and valiantly as his father did before him.

Walking back over to the riverbank, Bad shot a look of apology towards Sapnap. The other man was too tired to try and figure out why. He heard the water splash as Bad dunked the piece of cloth in the water, totally soaking it. The other man walked back over to his left side and sat down next to him, his legs crossed. Now that he was so close again, Sapnap could plainly see the streaks running down his reddened face.

He lifted Sapnap up slightly, running the cloth under him and binding it with string he quickly grabbed from Sapnap's burnt orange bag. Sapnap gave another low and involuntary groan as Bad gently tied the cloth into place around his body, which went from under his shoulders all the way down to his knees.

"Try not to move too much," Bad said, his voice hoarse and breaking as he spoke. Sapnap nodded the best he could while still lying in the sand.

"What happened?" he whispered, cringing slightly at the sound of his broken voice. Bad looked like he was about to start crying again, quickly averting his eyes from his friend.

"Uhm," the older man started, his voice trembling. The fact that Bad, who was always the cheery and uplifting one of the group, was clearing his throat to try and control his breaking voice as he cried made various horrifying scenarios run through Sapnap's head repeatedly. He was also slowly starting to realise that their friend George was nowhere nearby.

"Where's George?" Sapnap asked suddenly, interrupting Bad before he could get a sound out of his open mouth. Fear shot through Bad's eyes before he stood and looked all around, scanning the surroundings hastily. He sank back to the ground and put his head in his hands. Sapnap's heart dropped when his friend gave a low sob, shoulders shaking as he cried.

Despite his friend's warning, the smaller boy started to slowly move towards Bad. He couldn't get far, only turning slightly to his right, but he was able to lift up his arm onto the other brunet's knee and started to rub comforting circles. The sobs started to calm after a minute or so and Bad looked up from his hands, teary hazel eyes meeting with pained brown ones.

"Bad," Sapnap started hesitantly, pushing his headband farther up his forehead before continuing. "Can you tell me what happened? I don't remember anything."

"Oh," Bad replied, voice wavering. The other man sniffed and took a deep breath before meeting brown eyes once more, "well, um. George and I were still up and then a skeleton attacked us out of nowhere."

Another deep breath was drawn before Bad started again, "I heard a noise behind us, so I turned around and there was a creeper behind you. I tried to get there in time so I could get you out or protect you somehow, but I didn't."

Bad sniffed again, curling up as he sat and resting his chin on his crossed arms. His eyes were empty of any emotion other than deep regret.

"I'm sorry, Sapnap, it should have been me," Bad whispered before burying his face in his arms again. Sapnap sat silently in shock. He wasn't too surprised about the creeper (what else could it have been, really?), but was Bad really so willing to sacrifice himself just for him?

He looked at his older friend and his heart ached. George and Sapnap needed Bad. Their group just wouldn't work without the glasses-wearing brunet cheering them up with his little songs, being the voice of reason, or even just keeping the other two from fighting about the stupidest things. He was an above-average hunter and fighter, a great friend, and a good man in general. But he was willing to sacrifice himself for Sapnap, just a kid who had none of the positive qualities that Bad did.

It just didn't make sense.

Sapnap continued to lay on the ground, turning his head to stare up at the sky. The stars twinkled, so innocent and far away from anything here on the planet he called home. Leaves were lazily blown away from the forest and across the plains by the night winds. He tried to sit up but his side panged, reminding him of the injuries he had sustained. Somehow, Bad had distracted him from them.

He sighed softly, causing Bad to look up at him with pity flooding his eyes. Sapnap looked away awkwardly before clearing his throat; he didn't want his friend to pity him for any reason. Not knowing quite what to do, he started to untie the strings binding the banner to him, curious to see the damage to his own body.

"Sit me up, please," he murmured in Bad's direction. His friend hesitated before standing up so he could lift him bridal style, setting him down a few metres away so the injured man could lean against a grassy mound. The seasoned hunter then crouched, helping his friend untie the strings and unravel the banner.

Finally able to look at the wounds, Sapnap's eyes widened. He knew that it wouldn't take too long for him to heal, maybe a few days (if Bad had treated him correctly), but he was almost certain that some sort of scar would be left.

His clothes were singed and the left side of his shirts and pants had missing pieces, resulting in clothing that was just barely holding together by a few threads. The flesh underneath was also burnt in quite a few places, with several small chunks missing completely. He knew that if he were to run his fingers down his side, he'd be able to lift up flaps of flesh held only in place by a peninsula of skin. Thankfully however, Bad did a good job cleaning the wounds and he couldn't see any shrapnel or dirt fragments stuck in his side.

"If you weren't sitting behind that boulder, you'd probably be...a lot worse off," Bad said quietly. Sapnap grimaced and let his head fall back onto the grass behind him, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply. He stayed still for a moment before reaching his arms up and crossing them under his head.

"Hey Sapnap?" Bad suddenly said, questioning tone very apparent. Sapnap simply hummed in response and his friend hesitated before continuing, "could you take off your pants real quick?"

Sapnap immediately started choking on his spit, shooting up into a sitting position and coughing a few times before staring at the other hunter with a bewildered expression. Bad laughed awkwardly but the blush on his face was clear, "I didn't mean it like that, I just want to try and fix them? Cause they're, you know, falling apart?"

Giving a simple "ah", Sapnap nodded before carefully slipping his black sweatpants off, Bad having to help when they were around his knees and too far for him to reach. The shorter boy shivered at the new exposure and Bad gave him a quick sympathetic smile before grabbing Sapnap's extra string out of his bag. He then pulled an improvised needle out of his belt, something he had carried around with him for an emergency.

Bad's sewing was better than Sapnap expected. It wasn't great by any means, he had known many people back at his home village that could have probably made it look like his pants were never burned, but it wasn't terrible. His friend worked quickly, only stabbing his fingers a few times (and softly saying a variation of "aw muffins" every time), and by the time he was done Sapnap's pants fit only a bit more snugly than they used to. The stitches were uneven and noticeable even if you didn't really look for them, but he expected it to hold the pants together until Sapnap could find a new pair.

"Thanks," Sapnap said gratefully, looking into his friend's eyes with a smile. Bad giggled and nodded gently.

"Of course. I got your back, Sappitus Nappatus," the older hunter replied with a grin, causing Sapnap to roll his eyes affectionately. The air was comfortable for a moment before Bad's smile slipped off his face and he looked around, sighing. Apparently involuntarily, the older man yawned and rubbed his eyes, the sleeplessness apparent in his face.

"I'll set up a little shelter," he murmured before going over and grabbing something out of Sapnap's bag. Walking around Sapnap, the other man started placing down planks to make a temporary little shelter from the monsters. He made sure to leave open a sizeable hole so they could look outside.

"Hopefully this will keep the mobs out," Bad said when he was done, sitting down next to his friend again, this time on Sapnap's right. "Maybe George will see it too."

Sapnap looked at the other hunter, eyes searching his face to see what they could find. Worry, stress, tiredness, guilt, and even a hint of anger were etched there. Bad hadn't slept properly in days, the younger knew that. He just didn't quite know what to do about it.

"Hey Bad," he whispered after a moment, shifting slightly closer to his friend, "you need to rest. I'll keep an eye out for George or any mobs. I'll wake you up if I need to."

Bad hesitated, at first trying to shoot down Sapnap's proposition, but after a lot of pushing from the younger he finally relented. Laying down next to Sapnap, he pulled out his sword and placed it on the other boy's chest before curling up.

"Use that if you have to," he mumbled before tucking his face into the arm under his head and quickly falling asleep, snoring softly.

The night was much quieter now that Bad's voice was missing from it. Sapnap heard distant creepers and clanks of skeleton bones mixing with zombie groans. He looked fondly at his sleeping friend before his dark brown eyes focused back outside. He knew that he wouldn't willingly wake Bad, no matter what happened. Sleep would do the older hunter some good.

He quietly hummed a tune that Bad had been singing earlier, unable to remember any of the words. In the distance he could see the dark blues and green of a zombie awkwardly stumbling through the forest. A skeleton clanked nearby and he tensed. It sounded much too close.

A bow string tightened and an arrow was fired, but it didn't land anywhere near the small shelter. Instead, a small but familiar yelp made its way into Sapnap's ears, the creator not far off at all. He glanced quickly at Bad but the older man had not awakened, only shifting slightly in his sleep.

'He must be really tired, he's always the light sleeper,' Sapnap thought absentmindedly, turning his head back to the small opening in the planks and freezing when a figure stepped in front and blocked the moonlight filtering in. This petrifying fear was turned into solid relief when the figure crawled in and George's soft brown hair and terror-filled eyes could be properly seen. Sapnap quickly grabbed some planks and filled in the last remaining gap, sucking in air through his teeth harshly when he heard one last arrow bounce off the newly placed planks.

George's panting was filling the small space as he slowly relaxed and Sapnap felt Bad hit him by accident as he once again stirred in his sleep. For a moment he considered waking the other man so he could do all the hugging and tearful reunion parts for him. That sort of stuff wasn't really Sapnap's forte.

However, it looked as if it wasn't really George's either as the shorter boy simply leaned against the upright planks behind him and smiled wearily at Sapnap, a smile only visible by the few rays of moonlight the roof planks had failed to keep out. He looked different, but the younger man couldn't exactly place how.

Sapnap felt like he should say something, anything, oblivious to the fact that the other man felt the same in that very moment. As it turned out, neither of them said anything and instead opted to sit in cool silence. They would sort it out tomorrow, when Bad was awake and available as a mediator.

Sneaking another look at the sleeping man beside him, Sapnap sighed softly. He reached over to brush some stray hairs out of the older hunter's face, pulling away quietly when the other man moved in his sleep.

His eyes met deep brown ones again, their contents too hidden by the dark night for Sapnap to decipher how George was feeling. He had figured out recently, almost as soon as he had met them, that both George and Bad had their emotions pool in their eyes, just in different ways. George's eyes were deep and filled with only a few emotions, while many emotions tended to swim in Bad's shallow hazel eyes. He wondered if his emotions did something similar in his own dark eyes.

Nodding once to George, who nodded back just as many times, Sapnap lifted the iron sword off his chest and laid it on the ground beside him, away from Bad. He then laid back and stared at the crudely constructed ceiling, a few stars still managing to catch his eyes through the cracks.

Shutting his eyes he soon fell asleep, his mind eventually ceasing the whirl of thoughts about what would happen tomorrow.


	6. Village

The morning sun rose, the undead slowly starting to catch aflame as the golden rays hit their bodies. An arrow flew at a figure making his way through the forest, but a simple jump forward prevented it from hitting its mark. A bell tolled in the distance.

Dream squinted at the rising sun, heading towards it as he followed the sound of the village bell. Hopefully, with his mask off, he'd be able to grab a few supplies. As a stranger though, he wouldn't be able to stay long; he had a feeling that any hunters after him would question and search anyone unfamiliar.

A drop of water fell into his eye and he blinked harshly, eyesight blurring for a moment. His hair was still slightly wet, as he had washed the dried blood out of it at a small water pool he had found when looking for a good tree to sleep in. The white mask in his bag was also clean, any remnants of the night before having been washed off with the same cool water. 

He thought once again of the wounded hunter he had helped last night. Even now, a battle waged inside his mind as he cursed himself for helping someone who wanted him captured dead or alive, but simultaneously wished that the young man was recovering from his injuries and had found his companions.

Fingers ran through drying dirty blond hair as Dream replayed the previous night through his head. Giving the other man his hoodie was a weird move, that was certain, but at least he had removed one of his most identifiable belongings from his possession entirely. He shivered in the chilly morning air and decided that he would have to get more clothing at the village.

 _'Such a liar,'_ he thought to himself with a smile playing on his face, remembering that the young man from the night before had said that there was no village nearby to give him medical attention. There was no chance that the brunet hadn't heard the peals of the bell before he had gotten to the glade. Maybe he couldn't go to the village for some weird hunter reason, Dream couldn't have known. Or perhaps he didn't want Dream to know about the village that was so close to the forest.

After a good half hour of making his way through the woods, which was returning to its peaceful state as if the night's terrors had never occupied it in the first place, the trees thinned and Dream could see houses made of cobble and wood. He paused for a moment, reaching up to touch his face as if to verify that his mask wasn't there. There was no chance it was though: he never slept with the thing. After a few nights of sleeping in trees, you slowly figured out what you had to change to make yourself as comfortable as possible, which meant the mask came off.

He breathed in deeply, holding it for a moment before exhaling and making his way towards the village. He only hoped that he looked normal enough, with his dark green shirt, black sweatpants, and dirty white sneakers, not to raise immediate suspicion.

However, he had no reason to worry, as the variety of people present in the village told him that strangers must be a common occurrence. He still kept glancing around warily, eyes consistently fixating on any individuals who looked to be patrolling guards. Realising that this would look suspicious if anyone took note of him, he relaxed, determined to find a small shop.

Finally he found a building with a sign reading 'Bert's Goods', opening the door and stepping into a small room with an alarmingly large amount of stock filling it. Directly across from the door stood a counter, behind which was a stocky, balding man with a very impressive monobrow. He appeared to be counting emeralds of all shapes and sizes.

When he became aware of the newly arrived customer, the other man shut the safe, emeralds and gold glinting from inside it. The other man turned, itching his big nose before leaning forward on the counter, watching Dream with interest. The dirty blond awkwardly scratched the back of his neck before stepping up, the older man looking at him with curiosity shining in his dark green eyes.

"What can I do for you, traveller?" the man spoke, his voice deep and gruff but laced with amusement. Dream must look quite the mess right now.

"Oh, uh," Dream spoke, pausing for a moment to think. What did he need? "You got any ender pearls, by chance?"

The big-nosed man laughed heartily, leaning back into it and wiping his eyes before seeing that Dream was serious.

"What, you planning to slay the ender dragon?" the villager asked with amusement. He seemed the social type, and maybe Dream could get some information out of him if he played his cards right. As a response, he only shrugged, which caused the shorter man to chuckle again.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not, what's it to you?" Dream said smoothly. The dirty blond had no intention of ever slaying the ender dragon. Of course, he'd probably be able to, he just saw no reason to waste so much time and resources when ender pearls could be used to teleport around instead. The shopkeeper smirked and shook his head.

"Only a fool would do that," the balding man replied. "A fool, or a man with something to prove."

The other man's eyes narrowed, looking at Dream carefully, "you're not running from the law, are you?"

Dream laughed, shaking his head, "no, my good sir."

"Of course not, you seem like a smart young man," the stocky man replied, grinning. "Anyway, pardon me for my chatter."

"It's quite alright," Dream assured. "It's been a while since I got to talk to another person."

The other's monobrow lifted on one side, a questioning look in his eyes, "you've been travelling for a while?"

"Oh, yes," Dream replied, nodding. The shopkeeper hummed, processing the answer.

"You know, you better be careful out there," he said, voice dropping to a whisper. "Word's out that the outlaw Dream has been wandering around the area. He's gutting people like pigs and releasing the ender people into villages."

Dream had to mask the amusement that tried to creep up into his face, trying to adopt a confused expression, "Dream?"

The older man looked bewildered, "you haven't heard of _Dream_? He's only the most ruthless criminal out there!"

Dream shrugged, shaking his head in faux innocence, "I guess it's just been a while."

Shaking his head in disbelief, the shopkeeper pressed on, "you must have been out for a long time. It's a miracle you haven't been murdered in your sleep along the way. Don't worry though, I've heard that the kingdom has sent out some of its finest hunters to catch the fucker, pardon my language."

Chuckling softly, Dream thought about the hunters he had come across the night before. 'The kingdom's finest' is not exactly how he would describe them, with their messy campsite and disorganised retreat. Before he could say anything, the shopkeeper's face twisted grimly.

"Then again, they did send out a couple inexperienced ones too," he said solemnly. "One young man from this village, even. I knew him since he was a kid, nice bloke. Shame he'll have to be bait for that monster."

"That is a shame," Dream replied, his interest even more peaked than before. "Who was it?"

The shopkeeper laughed shortly, "you wouldn't know him, stranger, not unless you came from overseas with him. A nice young man though, name's George. You'll probably never meet him but if you do, send him Bert's greetings."

Dream nodded, Bert giving him a weak smile before asking, "say, what's your name, stranger? Just in case George ever gets back and you've met him. Besides, we've been talking enough to know each other on a first-name basis, eh?"

Hesitating, Dream stammered out a name he hadn't said in years: "It's Clay."

The other man nodded once and repeated the name before clearing his throat.

"Anyway, about those ender pearls. We don't got any."

About half an hour later, bidding a polite goodbye to the chatty shopkeeper (who responded with a cheery "stay safe out there, Clay!"), Dream walked out of the small shop. His bag, even though it was no heavier than before, carried just a few more items than it had when he first came in. Items he had paid for with stolen emeralds and gold, but he tried to push that fact out of his head.

He wanted to get out of this village, fast. Even though he hadn't been there long, he felt like the guards locked their gaze on him longer than they did before. His feet hit harshly against the beaten dirt path, kicking a few stones as he directed himself towards one of the village exits. The bell tolled again, marking another hour. Villagers strolled the beaten paths, children running and playing with each other. It was a bright, merry day, and the villagers knew it.

Once he had left the village, his goal now to retreat back into the forest, Dream thought about what Bert had said about the hunters. All excellent hunters except two sent as bait.

Was one of them the man he had treated last night? His accent sounded foreign, maybe that was George.

 _'George,'_ he mused silently. _'That's a nice name. Wouldn't expect a hunter to have a name like that.'_

Pushing the hunter out of his mind, Dream strolled behind a tree, slipping to the ground before reaching into his bag. The dark blue hoodie he had purchased earlier caught his eye, but as the noon heat was nearly suffocating, he decided to ignore it for the time being. Gleefully, he picked out a brand new shield and iron sword, slipping the weapon into his belt smoothly. He held up the shield a few times, pretending to defend himself from flying arrows. His stomach grumbled loudly and he set the shield down, rummaging through the green bag once more to pick out some cooked food.

He sighed when he had finished eating, resting his back against the tree and closing his eyes comfortably. Thoughts started to float through his mind, painful thoughts even. This always happened whenever he tried to relax. His past life, the crimes he had committed, the hunter he met yesterday...

Opening his eyes and sitting up, he shook his head as if to shake the thoughts out of his head entirely. He just wanted a quiet moment to himself, not even knowing why the young hunter kept making his way into Dream's mind. Maybe it was because the interaction with the other man last night had been the most intimate one Dream had experienced in a long time.

Bert's words about Dream made their way back into his mind, a small smile playing on his face as he thought of the rumours. He paused, remembering what Bert had said about "proving himself".

If he killed the ender dragon, would everything go back to normal?

But to answer that question, he had to answer a much tougher one:

Did he even _want_ everything to be normal again?

He curled up, pulling his knees to his chest, thinking. He bit his cheek and thought about the shitty things he'd done in the past. The images that haunted him in his nightmares.

The faces of the innocent family, watching as their farmhouse burned.

A woman, screaming and crying in the street after he had robbed her house, stealing jewellery that had belonged to her late wife.

A young child, parents asleep, staring up at him with wide eyes as he held a knife in his hand and prepared to rob a different house.

He put his head in his hand, not wanting to think about it any more. Yeah, he wasn't as bad as they said he was. But he wasn't good either.

Different thoughts flowed into his mind, thoughts about the future. He realised that he didn't really have one. If he stayed this way, running from the law, he would either get caught to be executed or held captive (he didn't know which one was worse), or he would evade capture forever to die alone and hated. But what if he redeemed himself? If he slew the ender dragon, supposing that would be good enough, where would he go for a new life? He hadn't seen his old village in years, and he had no friends to speak of. He was all alone.

 _'Maybe just quit while you're ahead,'_ a thought crept into his mind. _'Die on your own terms.'_

He wasn't a stranger to these types of destructive thoughts, not in the slightest. They had started long ago, back when he was bored with life, back before he started committing crimes. They were quiet then, less violent too. Maybe he was getting bored with life again.

Standing up, he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, bending over to pick up his shield as well. He didn't want to think anymore, but he knew he wanted to redeem himself.

If that meant he would have to kill the ender dragon, he would do it.

But would he even be able to?


	7. Hoodie

Sunlight found every crack in the small wooden shelter, peeking in at the three players sleeping inside. As the sun rose up into the sky, the rays shifted until one found a place on George's left eye. The brunet shifted in his sleep uncomfortably before reluctantly waking up, rubbing the sunlight out of his eyes. 

Dark brown eyes scanned the dimly lit surroundings, catching on the two other figures in the tiny room. They were, so far, undisturbed by the light seeping in. 

George did his best to stretch in the confined space, his back sore after being stuck in an upright position all night. His vertebrate cracked softly and he grunted, still trying to keep as quiet as possible. Someone shifted and the brunet froze, not wanting to wake either of his companions. A soft, sleepy sigh escaped from one of the other two and the movement stopped.

The air felt heavy in the small shelter, as was expected from a small space where three men had been sleeping. George decided to try and take a walk outside, moving into a crouching position as he prepared to remove a few planks from the wall. Nearly bumping his head on the low ceiling, he pursed his lips in mild frustration before reaching for a crack in the wall that was noticeably larger. 

After carefully moving a few planks out of the way and wiggling his way through the small exit he had made, he took a deep breath of the fresh morning air. Eyes drifting back to the ugly wooden shelter, he replaced the planks before turning back to gaze upon the open plains. 

His eyes landed on a small herd of cows grazing not very far away. He reached for the sword at his hip but found nothing there. Eyes trailing down, they caught the lemon yellow hoodie (he knew that it was supposed to be lime green, but for all he could tell it was just bright yellow), blood seeping through it where his upper arm was. As soon as he looked at the red-soaked area, a dull ache started in his arm, to which he carefully rolled up his sleeve.

Wrapped around his upper arm was a strip of fabric from his own shirt, about half of it completely soaked with blood. For a moment he thought of unwinding it, but decided against that idea when he realised that he would have to find new, fresh fabric to replace it. 

Gently rolling the sleeve back down, George trained his eyes towards the forest. The memories of the night before were a bit hazy in his mind, clogged with pain and confusion, but he could remember the direction from which he had came from. He set off, hoping to retrieve his bag and whatever else they may have left behind. 

The forest was peaceful, as always. The sounds of a few burning skeletons and zombies were still present even though the sun's position indicated that it was almost noon. George hesitated before putting his hands in the front pocket of the hoodie, very conflicted about the things that had to happen so the clothing would find itself on him. 

He remembered the white, smiling mask looking at him as he lay petrified. Last night he thought he was going to die, but he didn't. And who did he have to thank for it?

Dream.

The more he thought about it, the more confused he got. From what he had heard about him, Dream was a horrible, awful guy. Unless robbing houses, killing people who even looked at you funny, eating children for breakfast, and releasing the ender people into villages so the occupants would be slaughtered were good things to do (in which case George had a lot of catching up to do). 

But he had helped George. 

_'To be fair, he probably stole some things from us first and then felt bad,'_ George argued with himself. Although that didn't make much sense either: why would such an evil person feel bad in the first place?

George shook his head, pulling his hands out and instead shoving them into the pockets of his jeans. He didn't know Dream, of course he didn't. Maybe even such a terrible man had his good days and felt nice, how would George know. All George really knew is that Dream had done bad things. And for those things, he needed to go down, one way or another. 

Soon George found the glade from the night before, the completely extinguished fire still resting in the center. He quickly found his dark blue bag and slung it onto his left shoulder so as not to disturb the injury that was still healing on his other arm. The stone sword he had dropped last night was also resting nearby, soon finding itself back in the brunet's belt. 

Brown eyes glanced around the small clearing, locking onto the black and red bag resting by the pile of burnt sticks. The young man walked over quickly, only noticing the mess around the satchel when he was nearer: the contents had been rudely removed from the bag and were strewn around. Even with a quick glance, George could tell that some of Bad's items had been stolen, including all of his food. 

Huffing in annoyance, George crouched and started putting the items back in the bag. Unfortunately Bad had carried most of their food, so they would have to get some more very soon. When the satchel was nearly full once again, George looked up and his eyes widened at the sight as his stomach flipped in disgust. 

To be fair, he wasn't entirely sure what had happened last night to anyone but himself. He knew something bad had happened to Sapnap (why else would he be wrapped in his precious banner?), but he wasn't entirely sure what. Now, as he looked at the dried blood decorating the boulder where Sapnap had been sitting, as well as the explosion almost next to it but still a bit behind, he knew. 

Creepers weren't something the trio had to deal with often, they spawned very rarely and made their presence known through signature hisses and spits. George was a bit surprised that one had managed to sneak up on Sapnap and get so close before exploding, as he usually was very aware of his surroundings. 

George gazed at the crumbling rock somberly, giving a silent thanks to the gods that his companion had been at least partially protected by the boulder. He would never say it out loud, but he valued Sapnap as a member of the group. Sure, he wasn't as experienced as George or Bad, but his determination and drive was admirable. 

Standing up, George turned away from the broken and bloody boulder. After getting everything, it was time to leave. As he was starting he saw a bloody poison arrow laying on the ground, hastily looking away at the sight. He didn't want to think about that right now: after getting what they had lost it was time to get back to the other two hunters, not think about last night's events again. Maybe by the time he was back Sapnap and Bad would already be awake. 

As he walked through the forest back towards the plains, he heard a bell toll in the distance. Grimacing, he remembered the one place the sound could be coming from. Somewhere he didn't want the masked man to go to, prompting his lie from last night. A place he wouldn't be able to return to until he had captured Dream. 

His home. 

If he was being honest, he never really wanted to go after Dream. He knew that once hunters were "active" on a case, they wouldn't be able to return home until they caught whoever they were hunting. After hearing all the stories about Dream, he wasn't willing to risk the possibility of never being able to go back home. It's not like he had family there or anything, but the friends he had made there were family enough. 

His mind drifted to his two companions, his new "family". Biting his cheek, he realised how they had actual, _genuine_ reasons for wanting to be here, even if they were assigned to this case randomly. The people in Sapnap's village, his friends, family, neighbours, they were all slaughtered when Dream released the ender people into the younger man's village. He had been helpless to protect them. Bad's reason was less personal, more of a "this is the bad guy, he needs to go down" sort of reason, but it was a reason nonetheless. 

George just wanted to go home. This was his first real mission after years of training to be a hunter and he hated it. Hated the treatment they got at villages, ignored instead of welcomed like the noble but weary hunters they were. He had only become a hunter to make his family proud somehow, proud of him the way they never were.

Look where that got him. 

The woods opened up into the plains and George noticed the herd of cows from earlier. He simply strolled up to them and began striking at one on the edge of the group. Frantic moos came from the attacked animal, and the rest seemed confused as to whether they should flee or try to take on the assailant, awkwardly stumbling around as a result. Soon all of them were dead and reduced to pieces of raw meat and leather, the price to pay for indecision. 

George breathed out steadily, his mind clouding over with various thoughts, the majority of them being about the home he had left behind. He quickly crafted a workbench and set to work making a leather cap. Eventually, he reached into his bag to retrieve the red flower he had gotten yesterday, squeezing it and scrubbing the dye into the dull brown helmet. 

When he was done he wiped his brow, sweat collecting there from the blazing afternoon sun, and placed the fresh red cap on his head. Dying leather armour had been something he and his childhood friends loved to do for fun, and the habit stuck with him ever since. 

Deciding to leave the crafting table where it was, George absentmindedly started walking in the direction he remembered the shelter being, thoughts and memories still distracting him. As the wooden structure came into view, he noticed a small hole in one of the walls. His pace quickened as his heart was stabbed with all the worst possibilities. 

As he neared though, dark eyes met his and a grin appeared on Sapnap's face as he looked up at George. The brunet couldn't help but smile back at his friend, laying on his back and only partially sticking out of the shelter through the small hole he had made. Soft snores could be heard even through the wooden walls. 

"You look like an idiot," George said fondly as he stopped in front of Sapnap's lying form, casting a shadow over his head. Sapnap pouted in response before retorting, "not a lot I can do to get out of here, Georgie."

George hummed, rubbing the back of his neck as he wondered how serious Sapnap's injuries were, "want me to help you out?"

The other man grinned again and nodded awkwardly, unable to really move his head as he looked up at the other hunter, "that would be wonderful."

Sapnap reached up towards George, waiting for the other to drag him out. The shorter man grabbed him with his left arm, doing his best to grab both of the arms extended towards him, before gently dragging him all the way out of the wooden shelter. Sapnap winced noticeably, trying to roll onto his right side. George frowned, pulling Sapnap out a little more before moving to his side and doing his best to sit the other man up, moving him so Sapnap could lean against the plank walls. 

When they were done with the painfully slow process, Sapnap sighed and gave George a grateful smile, "thanks man. I love Bad, but holy shit, I couldn't stand another minute being stuck in such a tiny room with him when he's snoring like that."

George laughed, sitting down next to Sapnap and crossing his legs, asking "he's still asleep?"

Sapnap nodded, humming softly, "he had a hard night. We all did."

Besides nodding, George didn't really have another response, deciding to instead pick at the grass. They sat in silence, Bad's snores still drifting out from inside the small shelter. The whole scene felt comfortable and George relaxed, receiving a small smile from Sapnap as the other man noticed, a smile he returned. 

Suddenly, a small yelp came from inside the plank walls, soon followed by a dull thunk that shook the whole unstable wooden structure. George had already jumped up, briskly walking around Sapnap who was doing his best to look into the small room through the small hole he had made. 

The two men peered into the dim room together, Sapnap winced as his side ached sharply. The taller man offered a questioning "Bad?" and received a soft groan in response. The oldest man was only visible, for the most part, by silhouette, rubbing his head after he had knocked it against the low roof. He looked towards the other two, a ray of light casting itself across his face and causing him to squint. Bad glanced around the small room, the sleep still very present in his eyes. 

"Sapnap?" the oldest man asked wearily, still rubbing the back of his head soothingly.

"Yeah Bad, I'm here," the youngest responded softly, his eyes locked on the other hunter. "Could you come out with us?"

Bad mumbled something that sounded like an affirmation, to which George rose and stepped away from the small exit. Sapnap sat back up and lazily smiled up at the other brunet. Soon, Bad had crawled his way out of the awkward wooden shelter, looking up so hazel eyes could meet George's brown ones for a moment before the older shot up and pulled George into a tight hug.

"Oh my god, George!" Bad exclaimed, sounding like he was about to cry. George smiled widely, looking at nothing in particular, wrapping his arms around his taller friend and tucking his face into the other's neck. The other hunter clutched him tighter, trembling. 

"I'm alright, Bad," George assured, but even as he said that he winced when Bad brushed against the injury last night's arrow had left. 

"Are you sure?" The taller man took a step back, moving his hands to the other man's shoulders and looking George over anxiously. It wasn't very long at all before he noticed the bulge on the other man's arm where blood stained the fabric. 

"George!" Bad shrieked, pulling George's arm up to get a better look. "What happened?!"

"I got shot with an arrow," George replied, gently pulling his arm away and stepping back. Bad looked worried and confused, so the younger man decided to continue, "it's okay though, I have it wrapped up."

Bad nodded with no real thought behind the movement. It looked like thoughts were whizzing through his mind as fast as he could think, and by the looks of things Bad wasn't sure what to do about it. After a few seconds, his head lifted, hazel eyes again meeting George's.

"Who wrapped it up?" Bad questioned before he took another swift look at George and narrowed his eyes slightly. "And where'd you get a hoodie like that?"

George looked down at what he was wearing; he had almost forgotten the lime green hoodie entirely. 

"I don't know," he lied, looking back up to catch the other man's eyes. Bad's eyes narrowed further, almost saying something before catching it when it hadn't even left his mouth. George glanced around awkwardly, shifting under Bad's suddenly very watchful eyes, his own eyes eventually landing on a very bewildered looking Sapnap, still leaning against the planks.

When the younger man noticed George's eyes on him, he blushed slightly and stammered out, "I didn't even realise you were wearing anything different."

There was a moment's silence before George started laughing at Sapnap. The other man rolled his eyes and chuckled as well, and before long Bad was also laughing. 

The tension had passed, for now. 


	8. Flame

Footsteps, moving swiftly across the plains, generated by a player with a clear objective. Now that Dream had plans to slay the ender dragon in an attempt to redeem himself, he needed to prepare, fast.

He wanted to find some iron, and the sooner the better. Iron meant he could make buckets for lava and water, not to mention better gear. Since monsters would be roaming the dark caves below, his safest bet was to find a temple, ruined portal, or abandoned village to loot.

Green eyes scanned the plains, unobstructed by Dream's mask. The wind wafted easily through dirty blond hair and brushed across a freckled, slightly tan face. As Dream continued to walk briskly, energised by his full stomach, the dark blue hoodie tied at his waist blew behind him like a low-hanging cape.

Something off in the distance caught the eyes of the attentive man. Shifting his focus and direction, he soon saw the cobble and planks of a village, resting in the middle of the vast plains.

However, this village was much different than the one he had left earlier that day. Instead of punctuating the peaceful silence of the biome with a cheery bell toll or the general chatter of a busy marketplace, a deathly silence exuded from the village.

Dream felt uncomfortable, questioning whether or not he should continue to approach the eerie village, and his pace slowed slightly. Despite his discomfort, something drew him to the abandoned houses. He could tell himself that it was only because he needed iron so desperately, but Dream recognised how familiar the village felt.

He just didn't know why yet.

Approaching the village with caution, it wasn't long before there was no doubt in Dream's mind that this village had long since been abandoned. Cobwebs decorated the roofs and windows, moss had crept onto the weathered cobblestone bases, and the church, once standing tall and proud, was now crumbling and half the height it should be. It was, overall, a grim and melancholy sight.

Dream walked around the village in silent awe, feet treading on sensitive paths that hadn't been walked for a long time. The sense of familiarity was stronger now, and along with it came a feeling of intense gloom as he gazed upon the state of disrepair everything was in.

He stopped suddenly, in front of a house that seemed to be in slightly better condition than the rest. Cobwebs still decorated the structure, accompanied by shattered windows and a door hanging off its hinges. There was a small wooden porch at the front of the house, and on one post of the porch rail stood an unbroken clay pot. A daffodil, wilting slightly, called the pot home.

The young man averted his eyes from the dying yellow flower, hesitating before picking up the courage to walk into the house, shoving the broken door aside as he did so.

Inside, the house was in a much more depressing condition: cobwebs hung from the ceiling and clung to the walls, furniture was overturned, and the smell of rotting food was blatantly present.

Walking over to a dusty shelf, Dream delicately lifted a picture frame that had fallen over. Just a glance at the three figures pictured confirmed to him where he was.

Years ago, this had been his home.

This had been his village, where he played with childhood friends and spent as much time as he could with his busy parents. The village that had been sad to see him go when he decided to set out and find his place in the world. The village that would have turned against him once they found out what he had become.

Dream let the frame fall back down with a soft thump, turning back to look around the decaying house. Not much had changed, other than the general mess and rot filling the place. He clutched the strap of his satchel tighter before walking outside, silently bidding a final farewell to the house he thought he'd never return to.

The house across the street caught his eyes briefly and he couldn't help but smile to himself as he remembered who had lived there: Nick.

Nick was, when they were both children, Dream's closest friend. They had lived across the street for as long as they had known each other and, after a brief spat of fun rivalry, had become fast friends. Together they had gotten into all sorts of mischief, experiencing the highs and lows of young life as a duo. Even today, years later, Dream could still remember the betrayal and anguish in the fifteen-year-old's eyes as Dream left their home village at age sixteen.

Dream shook his head absentmindedly, pushing thoughts and concerns about where and how and _who_ Nick was out of his mind. Thinking about the past never did him any good, and only made it harder for him to craft his own future. He turned stiffly, staring down the lonely street.

He didn't remember much about this place, but he did know the layout. The blacksmith, hopefully stocked with iron and other useful materials, should only be a few houses down. Following his foggy memory, Dream started walking down the path.

The eeriest part of this whole scene was the complete lack of any movement or active life. Sure, there were wilting plants here and there, and he caught the sight of a healthy-looking wheat farm on the edge of the village, but there were no animals. He also hadn't noticed any bodies yet, as queasy as the thought made him feel.

His blood ran cold as he realised what had happened to his village, pace faltering for a moment.

The ender people had been here.

It was said that they left no trace, swallowing their victims whole by use of their wide, gaping mouths. Ender people were quick to anger, as legend said that all it took was a glance at them to contort their tall, elegant figures into things of pure monstrosity and rage. The villages they visited stayed empty after they had gone, an uneasy aura settling over the wreckage that left the area feeling dead and lonely.

He hadn't felt any attachment to this place in years, not after he had left his best friend behind, but his heart still mourned the loss of so many innocents. They didn't deserve to go out in such a brutal, heartless way.

As he continued, entire body feeling number and colder with every slow step he took, he remembered what Bert had said earlier. People thought that _he_ was the one releasing the ender people into villages. They believed that he was that heartless and cruel.

Looking up from the ground, he stared ahead with a determined glint in his eyes. He might be a criminal, but he wasn't that sort of criminal. With a beating heart and actual feelings, he was still undeniably human. He wouldn't be remembered as a monster, he would make sure of that.

Finally stopping, he gazed up at the blacksmith, smooth stone slabs and cobblestone broken and crumbling. Stepping up, he walked inside the tiny building, hearing the spirited pops of lava in a container nearby the empty furnaces.

In the corner, there was a single chest, slightly open as the tip of an iron pickaxe peeked out. Green eyes lit up in delight as calloused hands eagerly opened the chest, revealing a few iron ingots, the iron pick, and a few loaves of mouldy bread. The man's nose wrinkled slightly at the stench, but Dream still picked out the ingots and pick without hesitation, placing them into his bag.

His eyes glanced around the cobblestone room, landing on an iron helmet laying on the ground only a few feet away. Stepping towards it and kneeling down, he picked it up to look at it with curiosity. It was already a little broken and, given the splintered stone sword lying near it, had probably belonged to someone who had tried to defend themselves from the ender people before meeting an unpleasant end.

Placing the old helmet on his head, Dream stood and walked out of the blacksmith, eyes catching on a flint and steel laying on the edge of the lava container. He grabbed it without hesitation, walking back out onto the street and staring up at the sun, its position telling him that it had only been an hour or so since he had left the other village.

He gazed back in the direction from which he had come from, a frown forming on his face as he noticed the dark clouds gathering in the distance. The rain would come here eventually, most likely during the night. Hopefully when it did, it wouldn't bother him too much.

His eyes trailed back down towards the flint and steel clutched tight in his hands. Lifting it, he struck it so sparks flew. A soft, amused smile appeared on his face and he stepped forward, bringing the flint and steel together again against the wooden walls of the house in front of him. His smile widened as the planks caught fire.

Dream had always liked fire, it was fascinating to him. Fire kept him warm during the season of Death, filling the numbness that only came when his parents hadn't come home after they _promised_ that they'd be back soon. But fire was also so destructive, and he loved seeing things go up in flames, the fiery tendrils reaching up towards up the sky and coughing up grey smoke as they consumed anything and everything they could. And as he walked through the village, setting fire to the place he had once called home, he felt the same childlike glee he got whenever he burnt something down.

But there was something more. It was almost therapeutic, and as Dream stepped away and gazed upon the village from a safe distance, the structures crumbling and going up in flames, he felt a distinct sense of relief wash through him. He was, in a sense, finally free of his past. Now he could build his future independent of everything he had ever left behind.

Putting away the flint and steel, he casually walked over to the wheat farms, which were still untouched by the fires. Smoke drifted through the air, thickening it, and Dream coughed involuntarily when the fumes crawled into his lungs. He quickened his gathering of the wheat, shoving the healthy bits into his bag before walking even further away from the village.

He stopped and turned to stare at the burning structures, watching ashes sail wistfully down as they were picked up by the playful wind. A rumbling echoed across the plains, signalling how close the lightning-carrying clouds were getting. Dream sighed, knowing he had to sleep in a bed tonight or else phantoms would come soaring down from out of the sky to get him, tearing his flesh apart with their razor-sharp teeth and claws.

If they had been in good condition, he would have grabbed a bed from one of the now burning houses, but just a glance through the broken windows had shown him the rotting wood and tattered sheets of the old beds. None of them would yield a satisfactory night's rest. He peered into his bag, digging through it to find any pieces of wool he might have. To his delight, he found three pieces, exactly enough to craft a bed. He hastily fished out his crafting table and a few planks, making a bed that he shoved back into his satchel along with the leftover planks and workbench.

He squinted at the sky, silently cursing how early in the day it was. Already exhausted from the day's antics, he wanted nothing more to do other than sleep.

As the fires raged on behind him, he dropped his bag and sank down into the grass, curling up in a sitting position and staring blankly at the ground.

What was he supposed to do now? Just wait until nighttime and then sleep? Or should he go into the caves, risking it against the monsters in the hopes that eventually he would be able to get to the end dimension sooner?

He buried his face into his bare arms, thinking about all the things he'd have to do to even get the chance to beat the ender dragon. All those things on top of the fact that there were people hunting him down, planning to either capture or kill him. It all sounded so exhausting, maybe he should just give up...

A soft meow came from somewhere near him and he lifted his head, looking in the direction of the sound. Two eyes, one yellow and one blue, stared warily back at him from the grass.

Smiling, he turned his whole body to look at the tiny cat, crossing his legs and leaning forward slightly. The cat inched forward, crouching slightly as it stared up at him, stopping a metre or so away and sitting up. Its face was a combination of orange, dark brown, and white patches, patches that continued down its whole body.

"Come here, kitty," Dream said softly, extending his arm towards the small creature in a friendly manner. He was surprised that it had managed to survive near this abandoned place, as by the looks of things it was one of the only animals able to do so. The cat looked at him with suspicion, eyeing his hand before deeming it harmless enough to cautiously approach.

The small cat sniffed his hand a few times before rubbing its cheek against it. Dream felt his heart melt at the small act of affection, reaching up to gently pet the cat on its head. The patchy feline purred, walking around Dream and wrapping itself around him as he pet it.

Carefully, so as not to disturb the happy animal, Dream reached towards his bag, hoping to find a few raw fish inside. Unfortunately, there were none there, and he frowned slightly before slowly standing. The cat gave a dissatisfied meow, standing up on its hind legs and reaching for his sweatpants, digging its claws into the fabric. He chuckled softly at the needy creature, bending over to give it a comforting head rub.

"I've gotta find some fish for you," Dream explained to the cat, as if it would understand. The cat gave no sign that it did, simply rubbing itself against his pants before reaching up to swat at the blue hoodie around his waist.

He smiled and looked up, scanning the surroundings to see where a river might be. Behind the burnt village, a noticeable dip in the earth could be seen. Deciding that was his best bet, Dream grabbed his bag and started walking in that direction, humming happily when he noticed that his new friend was following him without hesitation.

Approaching the dip, his previous assumption proved to be correct as his eyes landed on a wide river, the water flowing downstream with no particular hurry.

"Wait here," he told the cat, who simply meowed in response before sitting down near the bank, not wanting to dirty its paws in the damp sand. Dream slipped off his shoes and socks, not wanting to dirty them further, before rolling up his black pants past his knees. He stepped closer to the river, wet sand squelching under his bare feet. Peering into the shallow water, he noticed a few cod swimming around inside. Grimacing, he delicately stepped into the water, hissing at the sudden cold. It probably wasn't the best idea to step into river water so far into Harvest, but he would do it for his new furry friend.

He waded farther into the river, the water rushing past him as it reached knee level. Shivering, he reached into the river, grasping at a very confused cod. After a few attempts of reaching for various bewildered fish, he managed to grab one right out of the chilling water, leaning away from it with mild annoyance as it thrashed in his hands and sprayed water everywhere.

Panting slightly at the exertion, Dream waded back through the water and towards the small cat that was waiting patiently. Presenting the cod to it, Dream smiled softly as his new friend sniffed once before digging in happily, purring all the while.

He sat back on the grass, looking away from the cat and back towards the village. The fires seemed to be extinguished but a few wisps of smoke still hung in the air. The leftover ash, picked up by the wind, had travelled as far as the riverbank, mixing in with the wet sand.

A small meow brought his attention back to the cat, its paw on the half-eaten fish to push it slightly in his direction. Tears almost welled up in his eyes at the gesture and he shook his head, trying to get across the message that the fish was for the young cat only. Heterochromatic eyes bored into his green ones before the cat looked down and continued to feast on the dead cod.

Dream didn't know what to call his new friend, he had never been good at making up names. He scanned his surroundings for inspiration, briefly considering naming the cat 'Cod' as a joke before his eyes returned to the smoking village.

"Flame," Dream murmured, looking back at the cat, who was now staring at him with what could be interpreted as interest. Dream couldn't tell whether or not the cat was a boy or a girl (it could very well have been neither, as many people and creatures weren't exactly one or the other in this world), so a neutral name fit best.

"C'mon, Flame," the man said while standing up, grabbing his shoes and socks before putting them in his bag. His legs and feet were still too wet to wear them.

Dream glanced behind him, seeing Flame trotting behind him and smiling at the sight. He was about to turn back around when his foot suddenly missed the ground. Gasping, he felt himself start to drop into a deep ravine, swinging around to grab onto the rocky edge. He winced when his body slammed into the wall, letting out a heavy breath as he adjusted his weak grip. A few small stones dropped past him, striking the bottom of the ravine a couple seconds later.

Above him, Flame's small patchy face appeared, a fretful mew escaping the feline. Dream gave the cat a strained smile, trying to pull himself back up out of the ravine. His legs swung wildly as he tried to find a foothold, but to no avail.

A stressed groan left his mouth and he looked from side to side, hoping to find an easier spot to pull himself out. Thankfully, only a few metres away, a foothold could be seen. Hopefully it'd be enough to get him out.

Grunting, he started shuffling his hands along the edge of the ravine, legs hanging freely. Flame ran around anxiously above him, meowing every so often as if encouraging him to keep going.

Finally, after what felt like several painful hours, Dream's foot found the foothold, causing him to wince as sharp rock met his bare skin. Preparing himself, he pushed himself up and started grasping at whatever he could so he could clamber out. Once he was comfortably and safely out of the ravine, he flipped onto his back, breathing heavily. Flame approached him, licking his face comfortingly and he giggled, scratching them behind the ear affectionately.

Eventually, Dream sat up, his legs still hanging over the edge of the ravine. He peered into the depths, face lighting up when he noticed the torches and planks of a mineshaft at the bottom. Glancing back up at the sky, he realised that he had a few hours before it would be night. He would be able to sleep for a few hours before heading into the mineshaft, all in the span of a single night.

Dream stood up, reaching into his bag and pulling out his workbench. Placing it down, he started to form a bucket out of the spare iron, the mysterious magic of the bench helping the process. When he was done, a new bucket held tight in his hand, he started walking towards the river. Flame meowed cheerfully at him, following close behind.

He was right on track. 


	9. Rain

Rain poured down onto the plains, soaking into the grass-covered dirt. A strike of lightning illuminated the sky, turning it into a blank white canvas for only a moment before the moody blues and greys returned, accompanied by an appropriate rumble.

The plains were void of animals, as they had retreated to small dens only they knew of. A few monsters wandered here and there, the groans of zombies and hisses of creepers barely audible over the noisy rain.

Ignoring the muffled hostile noises, or perhaps not hearing them at all, the three hunters were slowly making their way across the great plains. Earlier they had decided to wander off from their temporary shelter, and therefore from the nearby forests, and since then they had gotten horribly lost. Rolling plains stretched in any direction they looked, although their vision was heavily restricted by the rain coming down onto them.

A forest would be welcomed by the three weary travellers, despite the possible fire hazard if a dry branch was struck by lightning, but a cave would be even better. There, they would be able to dry off safe from the rain and any monsters lurking in the darkness.

Lightning struck again, its proximity causing the hunters to stiffen and halt for a moment. The air buzzed with electricity, the stricken grass patch burning for a split second before the rain extinguished the flames.

George looked back at Bad, his brown eyes obscured by the goggles he had decided to wear to protect his vision from the rain and his head covered by the red cap he had made earlier that day. Bad tried to maintain eye contact but the drops falling into his eyes forced his head down again.

The eldest had given up his hooded jacket to Sapnap, whose head was now properly shielded from the rain as Bad carried him. The heavily injured man still shivered almost as much as the other two, as the rain had soaked his pants and socks, with some water somehow making its way inside the waterproof jacket to dampen his shirts. Each shiver caused Sapnap to wince in pain as he rubbed his injury the wrong way, causing Bad to quietly fuss as he tried to figure out how best to carry his friend. Eventually, they had settled on a position where Bad held Sapnap up in a sitting position, while Sapnap turned to look behind them and clung to Bad with both arms.

Up ahead, George turned back around and started walking again. Bad followed his lead, finding it harder to go forward as the ground slowly started to turn to watery mud beneath their feet. Each step from the two hunters was plagued with mud trying to keep them down and sticking to their shoes when they didn't obey.

"Oh gods," Sapnap suddenly said, the exclamation quickly travelling the short distance to Bad's ear and causing the other man to turn and look. There, off in the distance, stood a creeper. The older's blood ran cold and he turned around quickly, trying to pick up the pace as best he could.

The last time they had a run-in with a creeper it had gone horribly, they all knew that. Now, as lightning continued to strike the ground mercilessly, they ran the risk of having to confront a charged creeper instead. A small gasp from Sapnap as lightning struck somewhere behind them confirmed the transformation, as expected as it was. Monsters always seemed to be more attractive to lightning than the ground, players, or other mobs.

Eyes still on the ground, Bad heard a muffled, unintelligible sound come from in front of him. Unable to look up for very long, he continued walking until muddy sneakers and jeans came into the top of his vision.

"Bad, a cave! I see it!" George told him excitedly, starting to walk slightly to the right. Bad followed his lead, squeezing Sapnap lightly and murmuring "George sees a cave" in case the other hadn't heard. He received a soft, almost inaudible hum in response.

George's vision had not deceived him and very soon Bad saw the ground in front of him illuminated by a soft glow, the pops of lava nearby. Walking a bit further, he was rewarded with the stony ground of a cave before the rain stopped falling onto his head. A sigh escaped his mouth as he looked up properly, shaking his head to try and get some water off him immediately.

"Finally," Sapnap exclaimed loudly, Bad chuckling in response. He peered into a small hole in the ground, sidestepping it when he realised that the glow and pops were caused by a small lava pool below.

"Oh yeah, you were a great help," George shot back, the joking apparent in his tone. Bad couldn't see, but he expected that Sapnap was making a face at George's comment.

"You're right, Georgie, it's totally my fault that I can't walk!" Sapnap replied, a tiny amount of bite in his voice.

"Alright guys, calm down," Bad said, looking up to meet George's eyes after the shorter brunet had taken off his goggles. The other rolled his eyes but complied, setting his cap on the ground and pulling off the soaked lime green hoodie that was clinging to him.

Bad had some questions about the hoodie, as he wasn't convinced that George knew nothing about where it had come from. The oldest hunter only knew of one player who wore such an obnoxiously coloured hoodie, after all. But it would have to wait, he had decided, as they were all still cold, wet, and exhausted.

After setting Sapnap down on the ground, Bad walked back over to the lava pool, rummaging around in his bag for a moment before pulling out a bundle of sticks he had collected. Carefully, he dipped one into the lava, watching it set on fire before hastily walking back to the other two hunters and setting the cluster of sticks on the ground. He smiled gently as the sticks were set alight, providing the trio with some much-needed warmth.

"Bad, could you craft us some beds? You guys got more wool earlier, right?" Sapnap asked, his voice already laced with sleepiness as he leaned against the wall of the cave and stared at the rain still pouring down outside. The other nodded, reaching into his own bag for wool before accepting the fragments that George had gotten as well.

The fire crackled heartily, casting dancing shadows onto the cave walls. The three men didn't speak a word, instead letting the sounds of the fire, rain, and nearby lava fill the quiet space. Soon, Bad had finished crafting the three beds, standing up and placing them nearby.

"I don't think it's quite night yet," he commented, pulling off the woollen blankets before walking back over to the other two, "but these should help keep us warm until we can properly sleep."

"Thanks," George replied simply, taking the blanket and setting it near him as he prepared to remove his uncomfortably wet jeans, shoes, and socks. Bad nodded once and walked over to where Sapnap was resting, sitting down next to him and crossing his legs.

"Can I look at your cuts?" the older man asked simply, staring into the other's dark eyes. Sapnap gave a simple nod and raised his arms, allowing the older to pull his jacket and shirts up over the younger's head.

"Hm," Bad hummed softly, his fingers tracing over the banner covering his friend's torso. He untied the strings holding it in place and rolled it apart, frowning at the gashes it had been hiding. They weren't actively bleeding anymore and seemed to be healing fairly well, but it would be a few days before Sapnap would be able to walk around on his own, and he'd probably be left with the scars for life.

"Is it bad?" Sapnap asked. When Bad met his eyes, he could see how nervous the other man was. He rubbed his neck awkwardly, deciding to pull off the banner completely and flip it so a slightly cleaner side would cover Sapnap's wounds.

"Not too bad," he replied, tying the strings back into place. He wasn't exactly lying: it wasn't bleeding anymore and probably wouldn't get infected, but it would definitely hurt for a while. "Here, let's get these clothes off you."

George scoffed in the background and the two hunters blushed when they realised the implications.

"Not like that!" Bad defended, looking over to George who just rolled his eyes in response.

"Whatever Bad, I just want to be comfortable, please," Sapnap said, directing Bad's attention back to him. The older man nodded, pulling off the other's soaked shoes and socks, pausing for a moment before dragging his pants off as well.

"Alright, I'm going to need you to sit up for a moment," Bad mumbled, holding the white blanket. Sapnap complied, with some help from the other, and soon he was wrapped up in the blanket.

"Thanks, Bad," he sighed in response, revelling in the new dryness. The addressed smiled before standing up, walking back over to the beds to get the last blanket for himself when a familiar noise outside stopped him in his tracks.

Ignoring the questionings of the men behind him, the oldest hunter started walking back towards the cave entrance, avoiding the lava pool and peering outside. Soon he saw what he was looking for: the mixed greens and electric blue of the charged creeper.

His hand flew to his hip, pulling out the sword resting there. The creeper hadn't noticed him yet, it seemed, but it was obvious to him that the creature had followed them here. He began slowly stalking towards it, the iron weapon in his hand flashing as the light of the fire struck it.

As Bad stepped out into the rain, he noticed that it had dramatically lessened. He allowed himself a quick glance at the sky, confirming to him that the storm would likely pass soon. The creeper had still not noticed him, perhaps due to the creature's lack of ears, and was simply standing idly by.

Creeping closer, he tightened his grip on the iron sword. Adrenaline pumped through his veins and he took a deep breath, grimacing.

He leapt forward, striking at the charged creature near the base of its head, thick black blood oozing out of the new wound. A pained hiss escaped the creature and it turned to him, starting to swell in preparation to explode. Darting back to a safe distance, he watched it return to a normal state before it started creeping towards him, staring forward with empty black eyes.

Steeling himself once more, he dashed to the side, away from the cave and out into the rain. As the creature sluggishly turned to follow him, he delivered another blow straight into the top of its head. His sword scraped against something hard and he pulled away, quickly backing up. The pearly skull of the monster could be seen, slowly being covered by the slow-moving blood.

The creeper did not swell this time, instead choosing to stumble closer towards him, the air buzzing with its electricity. Bad ground his teeth together, wondering how many strikes it would take for him to kill the thing. He took another few steps back and glanced around the plains carefully. There didn't seem to be any other mobs nearby.

Wheezing slightly, the monster continued to approach, but its pace was no match against the speed of a player. Bad ran around it, choosing to stab at one of its feet and slowing its awkward pace further. His sword was painted with the monster's ugly black blood, slowly dripping down to the hilt.

Wanting to end the fight and return to his friends, Bad ran up and thrust his sword through the monster's open mouth, pushing the misshapen creature to the ground. The creeper's dark eyes widened, almost as if it was surprised, and a low gurgling came from its throat.

As the creature slowly started to swell beneath him, Bad felt a brief panic shoot through him. What if it wasn't enough? He would die if this creeper exploded right now, which meant that George and Sapnap would die for sure in their injured state.

Unsure of what to do, he pushed his sword deeper into the creature, the tip penetrating the ground below. As he twisted his weapon desperately, he could see pale bone fragments, once a part of the gruesome monster's skull. The creeper struggled, still swelling, before its movement and expansion halted entirely.

A moment later, the creeper vanished in a puff of grey smoke, the feeling of electricity and the smell of gunpowder left hanging in the air. Bad stood, shaking, letting the rain gently fall down onto him as he calmed down. When his breathing returned to normal he looked down, grimacing at the sight of all the blood left on his sword.

He quickly noticed the gunpowder that the creeper had dropped upon its death, picking it up before yanking his sword out of the ground, attempting to wipe it off on the wet grass. Walking back to the cave and smiling softly to himself, he noticed the clouds clearing up above him, revealing stars twinkling in a dark sky. The storm had passed and soon the rain would be gone for good.

Strolling back into the cave, he offered his friends a small smile, a smile which did nothing to ease the looks of confusion on their faces.

"Are you alright, Bad?" George asked as he propped himself up on his elbow, concern etched onto his face.

"Yeah, you kinda just jumped out," Sapnap elaborated. Bad nodded, dropping the chunk of gunpowder onto his bag.

"I'm fine, guys, there was just a creeper out there," he replied, trying to keep things casual. George's shriek was anything but.

"A creeper?! And you went outside without me?" George scolded, sitting up further. "You could have died!"

"Yeah, I know, I'm sorry," Bad answered sincerely, looking at the shocked men. "But it could have wandered inside, and where would we be then?"

George muttered something under his breath, shaking his head before laying back down on the ground, pulling his blanket closer.

"Oh, by the way," Bad added, "it's night outside, you guys can sleep if you want."

"And you're not going to?" George questioned, already standing up and walking to the bed he had decided to claim.

"I'm just going to block off the entrance so nothing wanders in," the other man replied, walking over to Sapnap and picking him up. "I'm also going to check how far this cave goes, if you haven't done that already."

"No, I had to keep an eye on Sappitus Nappitus here, we wouldn't want him to get destroyed by a stupid zombie or something."

"Hey!" Sapnap exclaimed defensively, scowling at the shorter brunet. Bad chuckled and carried him over to the bed furthest away from George's, laying him down and helping him get comfortable.

"Thanks, Bad," the other man said before turning his head away and shutting his eyes. The addressed smiled softly, walking back over to his bag and grabbing some planks. After he had used them to cover up the entrance, he turned his attention to the back of the cave.

As he passed the low burning fire, he grabbed a stick on the outer edge, using it as a weak torch to illuminate the darker parts of the cave. From what he could tell, the cave was fairly long. It would be best to build a wall somewhere to keep them safe for tonight, but he was in an adventurous mood.

The cave was twisty but didn't diverge much, so Bad kept walking along the curving tunnel, listening to the quiet drops of water deep down inside. He could hear bat squeaks too, but due to the fact he saw none he assumed that they must be further down as well.

He had been walking along for a few minutes when he noticed some netherrack on the ground. Curiosity peaked, he turned the corner, eyes landing on the obsidian of a ruined portal.

"Wow," he breathed, gazing at the strange display of magma, netherrack, and obsidian. Hazel eyes latched onto the gold block at the top before drifting back down to the simple chest at the base of the portal.

He stepped towards the obsidian portal, careful to avoid the scalding magma blocks, before opening the chest and peering inside. To his delight, there were a few iron ingots, an iron pickaxe, a compass, golden nuggets, and a health potion. Taking almost everything without hesitation, all that was left in the chest was the compass. Thinking for a moment, he grabbed it as well.

Compass in hand, he stood back up, looking it over. It looked like an ordinary compass, except the needle kept swivelling around wildly, almost as if it didn't know what it was searching for. Seeking an explanation he turned it over, fingers running over the engraved text as he read it.

" _For the hunter, to find the hunted_ ," he murmured, echoing what was carved into the metal. His eyes locked onto a small red button and, without really knowing what he was doing, he pressed it. The small clicks of the swivelling needle stopped, causing him to turn the compass back over.

It was now locked directly behind him.


	10. Diamonds

The smell of petrichor still hung in the air even as the morning sun weakly shone on the world. Dewdrops and raindrops mingled, clinging to blades of grass and burnt wooden planks. The village was no longer smoking, the charred woods of the broken houses being the only evidence that there had been a fire at all.

A small meow came from the forest nearby, the origin being a small, patchy cat. Flame was poking Dream, who groaned sleepily and turned away. Continuing with determination, the small cat jumped onto the bed, mewing softly as they continued to prod at the sleeping man.

Dream's eyes opened, blinking as he stared blankly into the awakening world. Sitting up, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, groaning softly. Suddenly he gasped, standing up sharply and plunging his head into the leafy roof above him. Spluttering, he sat back down on the bed, glaring at the branches above.

"Shit," he muttered, gazing upon the morning scene. He had, of course, wanted to wake up during the night, but clearly his body had other plans and had instead slept until the morning.

He smiled as Flame rubbed against him happily, starting to purr when he rubbed their head affectionately. Sighing, he stood up carefully, lifting Flame onto his shoulders as he put the bed back into his bag.

"Alright, Flame," he said, starting to walk back towards where he remembered the ravine being, "we might be a bit behind schedule, but we got this."

Flame responded with a small mew, continuing to cling onto Dream's blue hoodie and wrapping their tail around the back of his neck. He smiled again, humming a small, made-up tune.

Soon, Flame and Dream found themselves staring down into the ravine. The dirty blond opened his satchel, pulling out a water-filled bucket, before looking for an empty spot where he could comfortably land.

"Alright, hang on, Flame," he said, spotting a perfect spot and steeling himself. As if they understood, he felt Flame's claws dig into his shoulder a little tighter. Taking a deep breath, he jumped.

Only a second or two later, the two adventurers found themselves at the bottom of the ravine, their fall safely halted by Dream's water placement. He let out a sigh of relief, even though he knew that he would be able to catch himself ninety-nine times out of a hundred.

Giving Flame a quick, reassuring pet, Dream searched around the ravine to spot the planks again. When he didn't see any, a frown appeared on his face and he walked up higher, eventually spotting the mineshaft after he craned his neck looking for it.

Humming again, he walked towards the planks, having to climb up a bit before he found himself staring into the dark halls of the mineshaft. Muttering quietly to himself, he rummaged around in his bag before pulling out an unlit torch, striking it against the wall to set it aflame.

Flame jumped down from his shoulders, carefully walking ahead. Falling into step beside them, Dream kept his wits about him as they started to explore.

He didn't know how old this place was, but he assumed it must have been around when he was younger, maybe being built around the time he left town for good.

Eerie noises echoed inside the abandoned halls of the mineshaft. Bats squeaked, lava popped, and Dream could even hear what sounded like the hisses of poison spiders coming from somewhere within the dark and abandoned halls.

The smell of rotting wood filled the air and Dream was hesitant to walk under any of the wooden supports holding the ceiling up. They looked as if even a light breeze could send them tumbling to the ground but, judging by the still and heavy air, not many breezes passed through here.

A small mew from Flame redirected his attention from the unstable ceiling to the ground, where the small cat was pawing at a minecart. The rails beneath the cart were in poor condition, barely managing to hold the cart straight. As he reached to open the chest snugly fitted inside the minecart, the whole thing shifted and slipped, falling onto its side and letting the chest's contents fall onto the dirty floor.

Green eyes lit up as they landed on the soft glow of a golden apple. Dream happily took the magical fruit, ignoring the mouldy bread and splintered sticks that had also fell out of the chest.

Energised by his find of the apple, Dream continued down the halls, the echo of his steps bouncing off the stone walls. Every few seconds or so he checked behind him, reassuring himself that Flame was following closely

The mineshaft felt like a maze with how often the tunnels diverged, joined, and ended in dead ends. Annoyance flitted through him whenever he noticed a hole dug out of a wall, knowing that the miners from years ago had dug out almost all the ores they could find.

Unfortunately, after his first lucky find, he couldn't find many minecarts with chests. As he wandered through the halls he did find a few broken pickaxes and extinguished torches left forgotten on the ground, and almost tripped on disconnected rails a few times, but nothing he found was of any use to him.

Flame mewed at him, meeting his green eyes with their yellow and blue. Dream squatted down to be nearer to the small animal when he noticed the pleading in their eyes.

"You hungry?" Dream asked, grinning as he pet Flame gently. A small mew and affectionate head rub answered his question and he nodded, sitting down and leaning against the stone wall before pulling his bag into his lap to search through it with greater ease.

"I think a lunch break is in order," the green-eyed man said quietly, searching through his satchel. Soon he pulled out an uncooked salmon as well as a steak from the green bag, placing the fish on the ground and waiting for Flame to begin eating it up before taking a bite out of his steak.

Dream finished before Flame did, their tiny bites no match for him hungrily scarfing down the cooked meat. He drew his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them, simply enjoying the quiet of the abandoned place.

His mind once again wandered to the ender dragon, specifically how long it would take until he could get to her.

First he had to go to the nether, of course. To do that he'd have to build a portal, but he didn't have any diamonds yet. He had heard that there was a way to build a portal quickly by placing down water and lava in specific places, but Dream couldn't quite remember how to do so. Besides, he didn't want to risk setting himself on fire, dying, and leaving Flame all alone.

He turned his head to gaze at said cat, a smile slipping onto his face as Flame looked up at him questioningly. Now that he had Flame, he had an even better reason to try and redeem himself. Even though he loved adventuring, the life of a fugitive was not the one for such a small cat, and a relatively quiet life (or at least a stable home somewhere) would best suit them both.

When Flame was done eating, leaving just the bones and a few other inedible bits of the fish, Dream stood up. They continued down the dry halls, reinvigorated by the food in their bellies. Despite this, it wasn't long before Dream felt like they were travelling through the same halls over and over again.

To his relief, he soon saw a rough staircase down to another level, walking down it without hesitation. This lower level felt different, tenser, and Dream felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up in response. Looking down at Flame, he saw that they were experiencing the same thing, their fur standing up aggressively as they looked around warily.

"C'mere," Dream mumbled, leaning down to pick up Flame and put them on his shoulders. Judging by how the small cat cuddled into his neck, he knew that they felt safer up here.

The duo continued down the empty halls, feeling more unsettled every corner they turned. Cobwebs clung to the wooden support beams, the walls were more crumble, and the cracks in the ceilings made Dream worry that the tunnels would collapse down onto them.

Claustrophobia wasn't something Dream experienced very often, but this was one of those rare times. It wasn't even that the halls were very narrow, but the air felt suffocating and he felt that with every turn, every step even, he was just getting more lost in a maze with no exit. The heavy air and dust even managed to muffle his footsteps somewhat, reducing the heavy, tired steps to soft pats on the ground.

There was nothing here, not even a stray minecart. The few rails he had seen earlier had vanished, the floor left completely bare. It felt uncomfortably empty, like the mine had been set up only to be promptly abandoned. He couldn't believe that anyone had actively done any work here, but the infrequent holes in the walls told him otherwise.

Almost before he realised, he stepped into an open room. The air felt drier here, making him cough from all the dust, undisturbed until now. The room was filled with lines of crudely carved stones, writing engraved into them. In front of each one was a long, awkward pile of smaller stones and pebbles.

Stepping up to one, he had to kneel and squint to get any idea of what had been carved into the dusty stone. His blood ran cold as he read the name, then the dates beneath. He stood sharply, eyes scanning the room.

This was a graveyard.

Why was it here?

He knew that his village had a tradition of burying people in the forest nearby, sometimes marking it and sometimes not. Finding a fully marked set of graves down here felt wrong, like he had intruded somewhere he shouldn't be.

But even as he wondered whether or not this could be a graveyard belonging to a different village, a careful glance at the dirty stones showed him some names that felt all too familiar. No one he knew well, but the familiarity was there all the same.

Seized by a sudden curiosity, he began intently looking at the names written on the crude graves, searching.

"Nick, Nick, Nick," he chanted softly under his breath. He would tell himself that this curiosity was only to put all of his past to rest; if he knew the fate of his old best friend for certain, he could move on.

However, no 'Nick' was on any grave. Dream almost sighed in relief before catching himself, instead decided to hum shortly and give Flame a nice scratch behind the ears, one which the cat happily received.

As he turned to leave, his eyes caught on a solitary wooden chest sitting in the corner. Walking over, he kneeled in front of the chest. It looked to be in much better condition than most things in the mineshaft, although the same layer of dust covering the ugly graves covered the chest as well.

Calloused hands reached for the chest lid, lifting it up so green eyes could gaze inside, lighting up at the pale blue glow that caught them. Excitedly, Dream pulled out the few diamonds inside. Four. That would be enough for a pickaxe, and he could save for a sword as well. The rest of the chest's contents were disappointing: more splintered sticks, a helmet that had been cracked in half, and a rotten fish. The latter's stench was so great that Dream quickly shut the chest, standing up and gleefully pulling out his crafting table to make himself a brand new diamond pick.

"Alright, Flame," he said, putting the workbench and leftover diamond back into his satchel, "it's time for us to head out."

As he was slipping his pick into the designated loop on his belt, he froze. It was hard to hear, but from somewhere inside the mine brisk, unfaltering steps were coming in his direction. He silently cursed the dusty floors, muffling the footsteps to the point where the creator must be too near for Dream to get away safely.

Quickly reaching back into his bag, trying his best not to make much noise, he pulled out the white mask and slipped it on hastily. He knew that if anyone was going to be down here, it would be a hunter. But at the same time, the hunter he had come across previously didn't seem to have a compass, as he was in the middle of nowhere instead of coming after Dream with the rest of his group. So maybe there were other people after him too.

Flame gave a small, disgruntled meow at the jarring movement of him putting on the mask. He stopped moving again, barely able to breathe, realising that the footsteps were quicker now, and louder.

He pulled out his shield as well before hastily fastening the bag shut, lifting Flame off his shoulder to set them on the ground. In a fight, he could probably take anyone, hunter or otherwise, but Flame would only get hurt if they were on his shoulder.

Watching the entrance to the room with an unfaltering stare, Dream shifted and ground his teeth in preparation for the incoming fight. If this hunter had a compass they would be able to track his exact location, but making noise wouldn't help him either.

As strange footsteps came even closer, Dream's grip on the hilt of his sword tightened and he waited with bated breath. When the other man walked into the room, his eyes darted up from the needle of his compass to meet Dream's eyes directly. The other's eyes widened, clearly not expecting to see Dream _right there_.

"Oh fu-"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, those are all the chapters that I have pre-written. Like I said, this story started on Wattpad, so now updates here will come around the same time that they do over there. Hope y'all are liking it so far. :)


	11. Potion

The air in the cave was still, resting lightly on the men sleeping inside. They breathed easily, the cave ventilating itself through some small, unfound hole. Outside the sun shined but no rays made their way in. The only things illuminating the stony chamber were torches that had been left there during the night, their flames weak and dying by now.

Out of the two sleeping men, Sapnap was the first to wake. He blinked blearily, his eyes met with an unfeeling stone wall. Turning, he groaned softly as the ache in his side returned.

Dark eyes focusing, he slowly became aware of the brunet sleeping a couple metres away. George wasn't the quietest sleeper in the world, a nasally buzz accompanying every inhale of his, but he didn't snore and they were all grateful for that.

Shifting his gaze from his sleeping friend, he noticed their older companion sitting against the opposite wall, quietly sharpening his sword. As his hearing adjusted to the awakened world, he could hear careful scrapes accompanied by a soft tune that Bad was humming. The other hadn't noticed that he was awake.

"Bad," he murmured, trying to get the other's attention. His voice was hoarse and dry, making him cringe at the sound.

The other hunter looked up, the look in his eyes clearly telling Sapnap that Bad wasn't sure about what he had heard. When their eyes met, however, the other's mouth moved to form a small smile before he stood up, walking over to Sapnap's bed.

"Hey, Sapnap," he whispered as he knelt down next to the bed, clearly trying to keep quiet so George wouldn't wake up. "How'd you sleep?"

Sapnap snorted softly, amused, "I slept fine, Bad, how about you?"

Bad flushed, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought of how to respond, "I didn't really get to sleep, I guess. I got a bit distracted."

An eyebrow arched, Sapnap looked at his friend with a questioning look, "distracted?"

Hazel eyes lit up with excitement, the other man opening his mouth to speak before pausing.

"I should probably move you. So we don't wake up George," the older hunter whispered, gesturing vaguely in the direction of their sleeping companion. After a quick nod from the younger, Bad picked him up gently and carried him to the other side of the cave, setting him down next to his black and red satchel.

"Well, last night, I went exploring a bit," Bad started, sitting down cross-legged on the floor next to Sapnap. Hesitantly, the shorter man nodded, wondering where this was going.

"And, by the way, this cave is really long," the other interrupted himself, stretching out the word 'really'. "But anyway, I found this broken portal, right? And there was a chest there, so I opened it and I looked inside and I found some things."

"Things?" Sapnap asked, looking at his friend with a mixture of amusement and annoyance at his vagueness. The older man nodded eagerly, opening his bag and rummaging through it for a moment before pulling out a glass bottle, a cork in the opening ensuring that the pale red liquid inside would stay there. Sapnap's eyes widened, looking at the pinkish substance, before his gaze shifted back to his eager friend.

"Is that a health potion?" he asked, voice laced with wonder.

"I know, crazy, right? It was just in a chest down there," Bad confirmed. Sapnap shook his head slightly, amazed and confused. Potions were a rarity in this world, as not many could make them and the nether's piglins had always been very awkward traders. To find one abandoned in a chest, next to a ruined portal no less, was nothing short of a miracle.

"Wow, I mean," Sapnap started, unsure of what to say. "That's really great, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Bad replied softly. "I think if you take it, it'll help you get better quicker."

Sapnap paused. He had wanted to ask if he could take the potion (after all, not getting to do anything without crippling pain was getting pretty annoying), but stopped himself when he remembered that George was injured too. It wasn't as crippling as his own injuries, but the blood soaking George's hoodie (where _had_ he gotten that from?) was nothing to scoff at.

"Don't you think George could use it?" he got out, looking away from the shining bottle to meet Bad's eyes. The other man sighed, nodding gently.

"I think so, yeah," the other man mumbled in reply. "But, look, he can still do stuff. It hurts for him, I know that, and if you don't want it then I'll give it to him, but I just thought..."

Bad trailed off, unwilling to meet Sapnap's eyes. Sapnap felt bad, he didn't mean to accuse his friend of anything. The other man sniffed, looking back up so hazel eyes met dark ones, "I just thought that you might need it a little more?"

"Maybe," Sapnap murmured, looking back towards the man they were talking about, still sleeping soundly. "What if I only take part of it, and then let him drink the rest?"

Bad's demeanour brightened considerably and he nodded, "that might work, I don't know why I didn't think of that."

The other man handed him the shimmering bottle, which Sapnap happily accepted. Uncorking it, he took a whiff of the potion inside. It smelled like sweet melons and he eagerly took a sip.

Only allowing himself to drink a little more than half of the bottle's contents, Sapnap handed it back to Bad, who was looking at him eagerly. Sapnap paused, waiting for anything that would tell him that the melon-flavoured potion had any effect.

Nothing came.

Sapnap could tell from the way that Bad's face fell that he must look disappointed.

"Anything?" the other hunter asked anxiously. Sapnap pulled his shirt up slightly, staring at the unaffected wounds. Grimacing, he shook his head.

"Muffins," Bad murmured, looking at the potion again before handing it back to the younger man. "Just finish it off, I'm sure George will understand."

Sapnap wasn't so sure but he took the potion anyway, feeling the pale red liquid slip down his throat before sighing contentedly. He hiccuped once, feeling his wounds start to tingle. Another glance at them showed him the skin slowly starting to piece itself back together.

It felt strange, like nothing Sapnap had ever felt before, but incredibly good. The process was slow, maybe due to how old the potion must be, but soon he felt well enough to try and stand. The exertion still made him wince, but he was able to do it with only a little assistance from Bad.

"Gods, that's good," Sapnap gasped, still feeling the potion working on his cuts. Bad smiled softly, patting him on the back. The younger suddenly felt a strong urge to fall asleep, only managing to grunt a warning before falling to the ground, consciousness slipping away as he heard Bad shriek above him.

Sapnap woke up for the second time that day staring straight up at the ceiling. His head ached dully and he groaned, grateful that the pain in his side seemed to be gone for good. In only a moment he found himself looking up into Bad's worried face, the other man starting to ramble incoherently.

"Bad, chill out!" he heard a familiar voice call out. "If he hit his head like you said he did, he's probably not going to understand whatever you're saying."

The other brunet's face disappeared and Sapnap turned slightly to try and follow it. He noticed that the fire had been re-lit, casting shadows onto the walls that moved slowly from side to side. On the other side of the room George sat by the fire, staring into the flames. Bad moved towards him, catching George's attention.

"What happened?" Sapnap mumbled, unsure if they could even hear. His memory felt fuzzy. Bad had shown him a potion, right? Then he drank it and it started to heal him, he remembered that fairly well. He was unsure if he'd ever be able to forget how nice the tingling sensations felt as the potion patched him up.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as Bad's face appeared over him again, the man's eyes still soaked with worry, "are you doing okay?"

"Sure," Sapnap replied, his voice only barely above a whisper. The other hunter grimaced in response. "Can you sit me up, Bad?"

Bad hesitated for a moment before complying, using two pillows under Sapnap's back to properly hold him up. The sitting man offered him a grateful smile, his aching head making him feel weak. As Sapnap glanced around the room, trying to see if anything had changed since he had been asleep, he met George's curious brown eyes for only a moment before the other looked away.

"Is your head alright?" Bad pressed, kneeling next to the bed and watching Sapnap carefully. The younger man shrugged weakly in response.

"That's what you guys get for drinking weird potions you find in chests," George commented, returning to the very captivating pastime of staring into the fire. It might have been Sapnap's aching head, but he could have sworn that he heard traces of bitterness in George's voice. From the way Bad stiffened next to him, he assumed he mustn't have been very far off.

"George, c'mon," Bad said, his tone pleading. The other man did nothing to reply and awkward silence dropped onto them like an anvil. Sapnap felt like squirming, embarrassed by the silence even though he wasn't clear on its cause.

"So, um, Bad," he started awkwardly, taking the look Bad gave him as an eager invitation to continue, "what other stuff did you get? From the chest?"

It took Bad a moment to process what he had asked before he jumped up, walking over to his bag.

"It was mostly iron stuff, which is good," the older man answered, dumping out the contents of his bag and sorting through them, "but I also found this!"

With the exclamation Bad stood up, holding what looked to be a compass and showing it proudly to the other two. The other hunters stared at him, slightly bewildered.

"A compass?" George scoffed, looking at the device Bad held.

"Not just any compass, look!" Bad handed the compass to the shorter hunter, letting him look over it. George's eyes widened as he stared at something on the back of the metal device.

"No way," he breathed, turning the compass back over and looking at it with fascination.

"Hey, I wanna see!" Sapnap whined, earning a giggle from Bad as he took back the compass and walked over to the bed.

"Here ya go," Bad replied playfully, handing Sapnap the compass. It looked just like any other compass, the needle trained behind him and slightly to his left. He wasn't skilled enough to say for sure, but Sapnap had a vague feeling that it wasn't pointing north.

Flipping the compass over as George had done, he gazed at the inscription and the small button next to it. Reading through the writing, his eyes widened in amazement for the second time that day, looking back up at a smiling Bad.

"Dude," Sapnap said, handing the rare hunter's compass back to his friend. "That's gonna make our job so much easier! How do you find these things?"

Bad chuckled and shrugged, walking over to his bag and putting the contents back inside, "I was actually thinking that we could follow it today, you know? Find where he is, take him down if we're strong enough."

"I think it would be best if only you went for now, Bad," Sapnap said softly, meeting hazel eyes with a steady gaze.

"Yeah, Sapnap's bonked his head and my arm hurts like hell," George muttered in agreement.

"Language," Bad warned, pausing before continuing to speak. "Are you guys sure you'd be alright?"

"Yeah, Bad, we can take care of ourselves," Sapnap answered, shifting so he could swing his legs over the edge of the bed. The oldest hunter watched him with curiosity as he pushed himself up, swaying slightly as he stood.

"Alright, I guess it'd be the fastest way to do things," Bad said softly, as if he were trying to reassure himself.

"It would," Sapnap affirmed, awkwardly walking over to Bad, smiling up at him gently. "We'll be okay, trust me."

Bad nodded slowly, moving to pick up the black satchel and slipping his iron sword into a loop on his brown belt. The oldest hunter started walking towards the wooden wall at the back of the cave, removing a few planks to make an exit he could walk through.

"Alright, bye guys! Try not to fight with each other!"

The other two hunters murmured in response, watching as Bad waved and walked out, eyes trained on the compass he held.

Sapnap and George waited in silence, listening to Bad's footsteps retreating into the lengthy cavern. When all they could hear was the ambient sounds of the cave, George spoke.

"So your side is better?"

Sapnap froze, George's tone betraying nothing about how the other man was feeling. This question could be a genuine one or a trap.

"Yeah, I guess," he replied carefully, realising that he was still standing and moving to sit next to the fire across from George. The other hunter nodded, still staring into the flames.

"How's your arm?" Sapnap asked weakly. He was a bit surprised when George sighed, looking to the fabric wrapped around his arm.

"Not great, I'd say. It's getting better though."

"That's good."

George snorted softly, nodding again, "yeah, it is good."

Silence fell upon them again, but this time it was less awkward. It was far from being comfortable, but Sapnap didn't feel the need to squirm under it.

"Are you mad?" Sapnap asked, hesitant to ask even as the words fell out of his mouth. George looked up to meet his eyes, his expression almost one of surprise.

"No," he answered, shaking his head. A sigh left his mouth as he returned his gaze to the fire. "Just a bit upset, I guess."

"Yeah?" Sapnap responded, wanting the other to continue.

"Yeah," George echoed. "A bit upset that you guys found a magical potion and used it without telling me."

"You were sleeping," Sapnap pointed out, knowing that it wasn't the strongest argument in the world. George shrugged.

"I guess I was. I said I was a bit upset, I'm not mad."

Sapnap nodded, "alright. You're allowed to be upset."

"Mhm," George hummed.

"I'm sorry."

George looked up at him with surprise, clearly not expecting such a reaction, "why?"

Sapnap shrugged, drawing his legs towards him and resting his chin on his knees, "we could have waited. But we didn't. So, I'm sorry."

"Huh," George mumbled, looking back into the fire before meeting Sapnap's eyes again, a soft smile on his lips, "thank you."

Sapnap grinned back, nodding at his friend.

"Of course, Georgie."


	12. Tunnel

"Oh fudge."

The exclamation tumbled through the air, masked green eyes meeting hazel ones as the two men became aware of the other's presence. They both tensed simultaneously, shifting into defensive positions. Watching each other warily, they waited to see who would make the first move.

"Dream," the hunter said slowly, recovering from his initial surprise. He slipped the compass he held into a pocket on his satchel, slowly buttoning it shut. 

So he did have a hunter's compass.

Dream thought this hunter seemed familiar, his black-with-red-accents apparel a signature look that couldn't be ignored. 

"BadBoyHalo," he stated, remembering the hunter's name. He was truly one of the best, and Dream was really quite flattered that he had been sent to capture him. 

The hunter seemed somewhat surprised that Dream knew his name but did his best to hide it. He was, of course, unsuccessful. BadBoyHalo showed his feelings on his face like they were a flag, letting his emotions pool in his eyes like water. There was no way he could hide anything from Dream.

Flame mewed pitifully from the ground, clearly sensing the danger hanging in the air. This time the hunter did nothing to hide his surprise, staring at the cat with wonder. 

Sensing an opening, Dream charged forward, raising his sword to try and strike the other man. He brought the weapon down hard, almost striking the man straight across the head before the hunter raised his own sword. The two clashed together with an awful metal clang.

Dream stared down into the hunter's eyes as he towered over him, noticing that the hazel eyes were now filled with frenzied terror. He tried shoving the hunter down but the other sprang away, escaping his sword's hold. 

"You're pretty good," Dream commented, straightening up. Talking to his opponents was a way for him to keep his calm during a fight. By the way BadBoyHalo gritted his teeth he could tell that it was unsettling him, which was an added plus. 

"Just come with me, and I won't hurt you," BadBoyHalo stated, tightening his grip on his iron sword. The hunter looked like a friendly man, as there were no hard creases in his face to indicate that he always frowned the way he did right now. Maybe Dream would have an easy time with him.

"Nah, I think I can take you," Dream answered, gleefully watching as the fire in the brunet's eyes grew in frustration.

When BadBoyHalo dashed forward with his sword in front of him, Dream was ready to block it with his shield. The other man quickly pulled his sword away from the splintering wood and retreated back a few steps, watching Dream carefully. The dirty blond made no indication that he was going to move towards the hunter though, instead spreading his arms as if daring the other to strike him. 

"Is this how it's going to be, then?" the brunet asked, drawing himself up to his full height and staring at Dream with an almost schoolteacher-like sternness. The masked man noticed with amusement that the other man was actually shorter than him. He grinned at the hazel-eyed man, trying to unsettle the man to the point where he would make a fatal mistake. 

"If you want it to be," he replied simply. The other man grimaced and Dream became keenly aware of how much of an advantage he had over the other man. He hadn't even taken a good look around the room for fuck's sake!

Seemingly getting tired of waiting for Dream, BadBoyHalo darted forward, expertly swinging his sword towards Dream's right arm. Strafing to the left, Dream narrowly avoided the brunet's attack. Before Dream even had the chance to stabilise himself, BadBoyHalo came rushing at him again.

This time Dream fell backwards when he tried to avoid the foreign blade, landing roughly on one of the pebble piles in front of a grave. BadBoyHalo stood above him, pointing his sword straight at Dream's masked face. The adrenaline had clearly gotten to him and he breathed heavily as he stared directly into Dream's hidden eyes with an unfaltering gaze.

"Just come with me," the brunet breathed, his voice slightly rough from the dust still in the air, "and you won't get hurt."

"Tempting, really tempting," Dream replied dryly, a hand undetected by the shorter man gripping a large pebble before he flung it towards the hunter's head. 

The rock hit the other man squarely in the temple and he doubled over in pain, clutching his head. His assailant now distracted, Dream rolled over and sprung to his feet, stepping back and watching the other man with narrowed eyes.

"You really are good," he said, coughing as the dust made its way into his lungs again. The hunter did not respond, groaning softly as he held his head. 

Dream stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do. He could make a break for the exit, but BadBoyHalo would be able to catch him easily with a quick attack from behind. Then again, he didn't really want to hurt the other man, so he couldn't stay long. The sight of red blood alone made him gag, he couldn't even imagine taking another's life. 

"Why aren't you killing me?" the other asked weakly, trying to lift his head and meet Dream's eyes. The hunted froze, trying to think of a good response. 

"You trying to deny me a fun fight?" he asked back. It sounded believable enough and he heard the other man sigh before he straightened up, sword held weakly. 

"If you want a fight, you'll get a fight," BadBoyHalo answered dully, wincing as his head continued to throb. Dream smirked, watching the other man stabilise himself and tighten his grip on the sword's hilt with determination.

"Sounds good," Dream replied, starting to take slow, calculated steps around BadBoyHalo, watching as the hunter did the same. They paced around each other like predators, silently daring the other to make the first move. Dream was at a clear advantage however, still wearing his trusty shield and battered iron helmet. However, BadBoyHalo could still prove to be a tricky opponent, as he almost certainly had the upper hand when it came to combat experience. 

Jumping forward, Dream stabbed towards the hunter teasingly, smirking as the brunet leapt back and nearly lost his balance when he landed on some pebbles. 

_'Yep, definitely having fun with this,'_ Dream thought as BadBoyHalo glared at him.

"Oh, c'mon! Not even gonna hit me?" Dream whined with faux disappointment, grinning widely as the fire in hazel eyes grew to a roaring inferno. 

Grunting in annoyance and rage, BadBoyHalo sprung towards Dream, swinging his sword widely. The dirty blond simply stepped out of range, yawning exaggeratedly. 

"Gods, you are annoying," the brunet muttered, grimacing as he watched the dirty blond angrily.

"Only a little," Dream replied, swinging his sword back at the brunet, who stopped it with his own. 

Dream continued to deliver hit after hit to the other's blade, the attack missing the ferocity that would come with an intention to kill. BadBoyHalo grunted in frustration as the strikes pushed him back, each step slowly moving the two across the room. 

Finally, Dream received what he wanted as a gravestone hit the hunter's legs, causing him to lose his footing as he fell back over it. 

As the hunted once again towered over the hunter, he saw the same look of terror as before, now mixed together with pain. Now that they were here, Dream was unsure of what to do. 

Dream didn't even have a moment to think before a pebble came flying at him, causing him to jump back in surprise so it wouldn't hit him. He smirked at the hunter still awkwardly laying on the ground. 

"Using my own tricks against me?" he questioned, chuckling with playful amusement. He opened his mouth to say something else to try and humiliate the hunter, but another projectile came flying at his face. 

This time Dream wasn't able to avoid it, the object hitting him squarely in the forehead. He stumbled back, protected fairly well by his mask, nearly tripping over some pebbles before catching himself. His eyes widened when he saw that the weirdly shaped object had been a villager bone, completely stripped bare of meat and now laying broken on the floor.

Glancing at the hunter, he saw a look of shock as the man realised what he had thrown. BadBoyHalo sprang up, a look of fear and slight disgust on his face, clearly now understanding what this room was. 

"Oh gods," the hunter breathed, swaying slightly where he stood. His eyes were locked on the pearly fragments.

"You're not gonna kill me, are you?" Dream asked, staring the hunter down. Hazel eyes glanced up to meet his for a moment and the unnameable emotion floating there was all the confirmation the hunted needed even as the hunter's words denied it. 

"Oh, this is going to be fun," Dream said playfully, even though as he spoke he knew that he should wrap this up as soon as possible. He might not die here, but the longer he stayed the greater the chance that BadBoyHalo would capture him, somehow. 

The hunter huffed in annoyance and frustration at the dirty blond's tease, darting forward to deliver a blow that Dream easily blocked with his shield. Hazel eyes flashed and BadBoyHalo continued to strike at Dream, the hits getting sloppier and more frenzied each time. 

For a moment, Dream felt terror truly grip at his heart and he doubted the look he had seen in the brunet's eyes. This was a _hunter_ for fuck's sake, it didn't matter that it was someone who looked like he couldn't hurt a fly even if wanted to. 

BadBoyHalo continued his assault on Dream's shield, clearly trying to break through so Dream would lose the protection. Almost desperately, Dream swung at the hunter, intentionally using the flat part of his sword's blade to deliver a heavy blow to the other's side. 

The hit proved effective when the hunter immediately stopped his furious strikes, instead clutching his side and wheezing slightly. Dream managed to get a safe distance away, looking around the room quickly to see Flame sitting fearfully in one of the corners.

"Flame! Here!" he hissed, relieved when the cat ran towards him without question. Picking up the small feline, he spared a quick glance towards the hunter, who was leaning against a grave and panting heavily, before sprinting out of the room. 

As he ran through the abandoned, dusty hallways, he could barely hear his own footsteps as his heart pounded hard in his body. This fight had been both the most fun he's had in a long time and the most scared he's been in a while. It felt thrilling and chilling, a confusing mix that he couldn't decide whether or not he liked. 

He groaned internally as he was once again faced with the confusing maze of hallways, praying that he wouldn't run into a dead end. Listening as hard as he could while still running, he tried to hear muffled footsteps that would tell him that the hunter was hot on his trail. 

There was nothing.

Turning a corner, Dream suddenly saw a gaping entrance to a cave, probably the quickest way back up the surface. He stumbled on rocks laying awkwardly in the path as he scrambled up the tunnel, murmuring quiet apologies as Flame was jostled in his arms. Soon he could hear heavy footsteps behind him, a good ways behind him but still too close for comfort. 

The hunter was yelling something, but the blood pumping in Dream's ears stopped him from hearing anything except the dangerously close footsteps still chasing him. If he were calmer he would be ashamed of himself; he shouldn't have lost his head so fast. 

Running up the winding tunnel, Dream felt a sense of dread slowly start creeping up on him. He wasn't tired enough to pant yet but he would be soon, and after that he'd tire out much faster. The dark tunnel showed no sign of opening up to the surface just yet, and he was worried that he had completely misjudged the cave. 

Maybe it would never reach the surface. 

Just when he was about to turn and try to face the hunter again, Dream saw light. He almost choked on his breath in excitement before realising that the soft, orange glow couldn't be from the sun outside. 

He hesitated, nearly stopping, but when he heard an incoherent, almost panicked-sounding yell come from behind him he pressed on. Met with a wooden wall, he slipped through an already existing gap and stepped into the soft glow of a fire. 

Big mistake.


	13. Shield

Light danced on the stone walls, the fire crackling merrily. The two men sat nearby in comfortable silence, both starting to doze off again. Outside the grass rustled and cows mooed to each other, but the hunters had made no move to clear the wooden wall blocking the entrance of the cave. For all they knew it could be night again, just with a strange lack of hostile mobs, but they expected that their friend wouldn't be out for so long.

George blinked, his vision blurred after he let his eyes rest shut for a bit too long. He stretched, trying to get out a painful ache in his back where he had applied too much pressure on the rock behind him. Sighing, he gazed around the room, eyes eventually landing on the other hunter, who looked to be sleeping soundly again.

It was unclear how much time had passed since Bad had left to go find their target. As George stood, still stretching, he wondered how the other hunter was doing. Had he already found Dream? Was he heading back right this second? The thought that Bad could be in trouble didn't even cross George's mind; the older hunter seemed too skilled to lose a fight, even if it was to Dream.

Sighing, George walked over to his bag, which was propped up against his bed on the other side of the room. He searched through it briefly before pulling out a few pieces of raw meat and a small wooden bowl, walking back over to the campfire and carefully placing the pork chops on top so they would cook.

"Bad?"

George looked up at the soft mumble, staring at a slowly awakening Sapnap. The other man blinked, yawning before looking around the room in an almost confused manner. When he met George's eyes, a questioning look was clear on his face.

"He's not back yet," the shorter man said awkwardly, focusing a lot of attention on the slowly cooking pork chops.

"Oh," Sapnap replied, yawning again before standing. He stretched a few times, groaning as his bones audibly cracked. "I thought he was for some reason."

Humming a vague response, George picked up the fully cooked pork chops, hissing as the heat hurt his hands. He dropped them into the bowl, looking back up to Sapnap and silently asking him if he would like one as well. The other walked over and sat next to him, a silent response.

"Where do you think he is though?" Sapnap questioned, throwing a few nearby sticks into the fire and watching it spark up with bemused interest.

"I don't know," the shorter brunet answered truthfully. "I wouldn't be surprised if he found Dream by now, he couldn't have gone far."

"Couldn't he have, though?" the other remarked, frowning slightly. "He hasn't been seen in a while, right?"

"Oh," George said, starting to panic but keeping it under control. "I guess he could have."

"Unless you've seen him," Sapnap commented, his tone casual but his eyes showing how intensely he was studying George. "But you would tell us if you did, right?"

"Of course," the older hunter replied without hesitation.

"Of course," Sapnap echoed, averting his eyes away from the other man. George softly let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"You know," the younger man continued after a moment of silence fell on the two, "I wouldn't be mad if you didn't tell us at first. I'd just want you to tell me now."

George looked at Sapnap, a light scowl on his face. Sapnap's eyes held a note of earnestness in them, leading George to believe that the other man was telling the truth. He simply shrugged, scowl slowly disappearing.

"Well I haven't seen him," he lied flatly, his tone betraying nothing of his true thoughts. Sapnap looked almost disappointed, his shoulders slumping forward gently.

"Remember, George," Sapnap said, standing up after grabbing a now-cooled porkchop and taking a quick bite, "we're a team. We got to stick together. I don't want you lying to us."

George bit his lip and looked to the other side of the room, away from Sapnap. There was a degree of hurt in Sapnap's voice that he couldn't ignore, worming its way into his brain just to tell him how bad of a person he was.

"I know," he replied, voice now soft but still revealing nothing. Drawing his legs out of their crisscrossed position, he pulled them closer to his chest and looked into the fire as he started to think.

He knew that Sapnap would never admit it, but the shorter brunet was aware that the other man was a fairly sensitive person. Not that it was much of a secret: almost anyone who spent even the shortest amount of time with him could figure it out. The youngest was always the quickest to anger, quickest to return to happiness, quickest to be hurt. George was the fastest to get embarrassed or scared, however, and Bad beat them both out when it came to crying, as the oldest of the three cried whether he was happy, sad, or mad (although if you got him to that point, you had bigger things to worry about than Bad crying).

In a way, George appreciated the other two hunters for their sensitiveness, as he had always had trouble telling how others were feeling. But at the same time, it really showed him how his actions and words affected other people. George knew that he wasn't always the nicest person - he had a dry delivery that was signature to his home country but unfamiliar here - but he never wanted to make others upset. But now that he thought about it, he and Sapnap had been bickering ever since they'd been grouped together.

"Hey, Sapnap?" he voiced quietly, his tone shyer than normal. The addressed apparently took notice of this, looking over with concern from across the room. At this reaction George felt a little more embarrassed, pulling his legs closer to his chest.

"I-I'm sorry," the older stuttered out, internally cringing at how vulnerable and weak he sounded. Who knew it would be so hard to apologise?

"For what?" Sapnap asked curiously. George looked towards him carefully, taking note of the interest and gentleness painted on his friend's face.

"For a lot," George mumbled, looking back into the fire.

"Yeah?" the other commented, his voice gentle but coaxing.

"I'm sorry for fighting with you so much," George elaborated, trying to think of a specific scenario that he could apologise for.

"I'm sorry for fighting with you too," Sapnap replied, walking back over to the shorter brunet and sitting down nearby. The older didn't miss how easy it seemed for the other to apologise.

"I'm sorry for that fight a couple of nights ago, especially," the older continued, remembering the argument that Bad had ended by walking in on. Even though he couldn't see him, George could tell that the other had tensed.

"Oh," Sapnap said, tone slightly flat. George felt his cheeks heat up and he looked away, resting his head on his knees and sighing.

"I was just," George paused, searching for the words that would articulate exactly how he was feeling. There seemed to be none, but he continued nonetheless, "I was frustrated, I guess. You seemed to be determined and excited to do all this."

He lifted his head, turning and meeting dark eyes and doing his best to hold fast under them, "it was so frustrating to me, just how inexperienced you were. I wanted to let you know, somehow, that this wasn't going to be some romp around a few forests with an easy fight at the end. And then you were goofing off so much, it just pissed me off even more."

Sapnap's expression was strangely blank, completely unreadable to George's eyes. He felt himself starting to panic, looking away and swallowing hard before continuing, "I just, you know. I care about you, I guess. I don't want you to get hurt. I wanted you to know how shitty this was going to be. And I didn't know how to say that right."

George waited with bated breath for a response. None came and silence fell over the two, making George internally squirm with discomfort. As time passed, however, he realised that Sapnap was deep in thought, probably considering his apology and how to respond.

"Thanks for saying sorry," Sapnap finally said. He seemed to be considering every word even as he said it. "I guess I'm not completely in the right. So I'm sorry for that. I should have taken it more seriously before, and I shouldn't have gotten so fired up when you confronted me."

"I wasn't exactly nice about it," George interjected. If memory served him right, he had called Sapnap a "sheltered child" only a few sentences into the argument and had started the whole thing off by telling the other hunter that he should help out more and not fuck around.

"Yeah, but it's not like you were wrong," Sapnap pointed out, pausing for a moment before adding, "Initially."

George hummed a soft response. He generally prided himself on his composure in fights, whether they were verbal or physical, but there was no denying that he often found himself going in for the kill (either literally or figuratively). When it came to their fight a few nights ago, this habit had reared its ugly head when George had harshly said that Sapnap would never be able to avenge his family since he'd die to his own stupidity before he had the chance. It was clearly a sensitive topic to the younger man so, to fight-fueled George, it was the perfect place to strike.

"I might have been right about some things," George said, looking back up to lock eyes with the other man, "but I went about it completely wrong. I'm sorry."

Sapnap shrugged, giving George a small but reassuring smile when he saw how the shorter man's face fell at the harmless gesture.

"I won't argue with you on that," he replied. "Thanks for saying sorry though. I appreciate it, man."

"So," George started, "let's try not to fight like that anymore?"

Sapnap barked a short laugh, nodding, "of course, dude. But if you fight me I have to fight back, you know that, right?"

George snorted, rolling his eyes. The atmosphere shifted between them, suddenly making him aware of tense and uncomfortable it had been before.

"Of course," the shorter brunet answered, giving the other a smile. The two grinned at each other for a moment before comfortably shifting their attention away, George's eyes returning to the burning fire.

Comfort settled on the duo, the slowly dying fire adding some physical warmth to the feeling. From somewhere deep down in the cave system came a big rumble, a common noise for caves that they had learned to ignore over the years. The rumble stopped, giving way to another, slightly more familiar-sounding noise.

Sapnap sprang up, walking over quickly to the wooden wall. George could tell that the potion had worked remarkably well, leaving Sapnap with only a mild limp and an aversion to applying a lot of pressure to the side that had been injured. Pressing his ear to the wall, the other man listened intently. The shorter brunet stood up quietly, holding his breath as they listened for a sound they weren't entirely sure they had heard.

The yell came again and it was undoubtedly their missing friend, the naturally high pitch sounding all too familiar. Even as it came muffled through walls of rock and wood, the two hunters picked up on the panic in Bad's cries.

"Sapnap," George stated seriously, the word dropping into the now tense room like a stone and drawing the other's attention away from the wall. Sapnap eyes were wide, frenzied worry beginning to creep up into them.

"Should we go out and look for him?" Sapnap asked, his voice unnaturally high and squeaky. George hesitated, unsure of what to say.

"Wait, listen," he said sharply, freezing the two where they stood. It was faint, but there were discernible footsteps, two of them. Two people running through the cave system.

"Is that Dream?" Sapnap asked, panic now clearly apparent.

"Maybe, I don't know," George replied briskly, walking over to his bag and grabbing his stone sword.

"Get your shit," he ordered as he continued to search through his bag, eventually finding his leather helmet and firmly placing it on his head while slipping the satchel onto his shoulder and latching it securely to his belt. Sapnap obeyed without hesitation, getting the stone sword he had left in his satchel.

"Do you think we have time to craft shields?" Sapnap hissed from the other side of the room. Looking to him, George saw that he held some iron ingots that Bad had left behind.

"Go ahead, I'll cover you if it comes to that," George answered. Sapnap nodded shortly before getting to work, hands shaking as he started to craft a shield.

George took a deep breath, steeling himself as he stared at the wooden wall, knowing that at any moment either their friend or their enemy could come hurtling through the open gap.

 _'He is our enemy, right?'_ a quiet voice in George's head asked. He decided to ignore it for now, hearing footsteps quickly approaching, knowing that with every hit on stone it brought _someone_ closer to them. The best he could hope for right now was that Bad was okay.

When the tall dirty blond nearly crashed through the wooden wall, George was ready for it. He had decided to stay back a bit, given he didn't know how well equipped the outlaw was, and when he got a good look at the taller man he was glad for it. The other man had barged in with sword drawn and shield carried loosely on his arm, the white smiling mask worn proudly on his face.

George shifted, ready to either attack or defend based on however the other reacted, but nearly faltered when he saw what the other man was carrying.

 _'This man just came charging in, probably ready to kill us, and he's carrying...a cat?'_ George asked himself in wonder. He didn't let himself get stuck on the patchy cat for too long though, quickly shifting his gaze back to the man's face before realising that the other's mask did him no favours when it came to studying his opponent.

"Guys!" another yell came, only echoing a little bit. Bad was close. If George could have guessed the emotion Dream was feeling, it would have been frustration. The other man stepped out of the way without hesitation, heading over to the side of the cave farthest from both George and the wall.

Bad came bursting through the gap in the wall, his eyes wild and his breath heavy. His eyes met George's for only a moment before they locked on Dream.

"You're a tricky little muffin," Bad commented in between pants. Even though the hunter was panting heavily, despite being in fine physical condition, Dream appeared to be breathing only a little harder than normal.

The tall dirty blond mumbled something that George couldn't understand (something about a flame?) before hastily letting his cat jump down to the ground. The patchy cat watched Bad and George with wary curiosity, twining themselves around the outlaw's legs.

A tense silence dropped onto the four of them and for a moment nobody even breathed. George took a chance and glanced briefly towards Sapnap, seeing that the other man was just as frozen as them, paused in the process of making his first shield. Dream moved forward sharply, making the three hunters jump. This seemed to be his intention, as he gave the three a lazy but cocky smile.

Dream seemed impossible to read, especially with the mask on, and George felt a deep sense of frustration as he realised this. He needed to know what his opponents were going to do, how they were feeling.

At least it was three against one.

"Are we just gonna stand here?" Dream asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. There was something else too, but George couldn't identify what it was.

"Why don't you make the first move?" George retorted, shifting restlessly where he stood.

"I'm the guest, aren't I?" Dream replied coolly. "This is your little home, isn't it?"

None of the three replied, but George felt something shift near him. Allowing himself a quick look, he saw that Sapnap had finished a shield and was now holding it with a look of determination on his face. The slightly taller gave him a quick smile before looking back to the intruder, after which George did the same.

Giving an exaggerated sigh, Dream muttered an "alright then" before darting forward almost unexpectedly towards George. Reacting quickly, George blocked the blow with his sword, iron on stone creating a horrible scraping noise.

Dream leapt back almost silently, regarding the trio with what could be amusement. He seemed impossibly calm.

Bad ran forward, seemingly tired of waiting for it all to start. George realised that Bad could have been fighting Dream down in a cave somewhere, which would explain why he seemed so eager to end this fight before it even began.

Apparently wanting to help his friend, Sapnap dashed over to where Bad was starting to deliver strike after strike to Dream's sword, which he was positioning expertly to deflect every blow.

Sapnap's first hit lodged his sword squarely in Dream's shield, almost distracting Dream and causing him to miss deflecting one of Bad's blows. Pulling his sword out with force, Sapnap left a small hole in Dream's shield that the dirty blond quickly noticed, a look of dismay passing over the parts of his face that George could see. Sapnap, on the other hand, looked delighted with the destruction.

Dream was starting to get cornered against a wall, receiving blows from both Bad and Sapnap as one tried to hit him and the other worked on destroying his shield. George could now sense the panic coming from the hunted and he almost felt pity for the other man.

"George, get in here!" Sapnap commanded, grunting as he yanked his sword out of Dream's sturdy but breaking shield. George snapped back to attention, starting forward before a soft mew at his feet stopped him.

Looking down, he saw the small cat staring up at him. Getting an idea, he picked the cat up gently before walking to the other side of the cave, sword still held tight.

"Dream!" he yelled, briefly getting the attention of the blond before Bad's attack distracted him again. In that quick glance, however, Dream must have seen his cat in George's arms, as his mouth twisted into a frown.

"Stop!" Dream yelled, a ferocity overtaking him and giving him the strength to shove Sapnap away and push Bad back. Once he had established some distance between him and the two hunters, the hunted stared in George's direction, breath now heavy and almost strained. The two hunters near him seemed stunned, watching him to see what he'd do next without doing anything themselves.

"Give me Flame," the tall dirty blond growled, boring into George with eyes that the brunet could not meet. "Give me Flame and I'll let you take me. I won't fight."

George had the vague sense that this could be a trap, but Bad's relieved face at getting to avoid a potentially dangerous fight convinced him it was worth a shot.

After all, what could Dream even do?

"Okay, fine," George said, still cautious. The cat (Flame?) seemed to not realise what was going on, instead snuggling happily into George's arms. Dream nodded once and slipped his sword into a loop at his belt, shield still hanging off his arm, before lifting his hands away from his belt entirely.

"Don't touch me," Dream snarled, yanking his arm away when Sapnap reached for his shoulder. The brunet opened his mouth, ready to retort before receiving a warning look from Bad, causing him to shut his mouth reluctantly. It would be best not to piss off Dream right now.

Dream towered over George when he stood in front of him, his mouth a thin line.

"Give," Dream ordered, barely extending his arms. George narrowed his eyes, feeling suspicious already.

"Step closer, then I'll give you the cat," George shot back coolly.

"Their name is Flame," Dream replied, "but whatever you want."

George knew he made a mistake when Dream stepped forward and a sly smile appeared on his face. But then again, how was he supposed to know that Dream would dart behind him so quickly, grabbing the arm with which George was holding his sword and bringing it to his own neck? He even went so far to wrap his right arm around George's, helping him hold Flame against his chest.

"Okay, now," Dream said, his voice sounding even more sinister so close to George's ears. "Let me go, or your little friend gets it."

If George wasn't so terrified, he would have complained heartily at being called "little" (he was average height, thank you very much), but it was hard to do that when his own cold stone blade was pressed against his neck, arms much stronger than his manipulating them into betraying him.

Bad looked almost as terrified as George felt, and even Sapnap's mouth was hanging open as he processed what was going on.

"Okay, okay, fine, just don't hurt him," Bad eagerly agreed, eyes already starting to well up in his eyes. George felt bad for basically making Bad cry, but then again it wasn't his idea to be held hostage like this.

"Very good," Dream replied, his voice adopting a certain bite that made chills run down George's spine. He felt sick, being stuck like this and unable to do anything about it. His head started to spin and it dawned on him that Dream was slowly applying more pressure to his neck. It wasn't positioned so the sword's blade could pierce his skin, but it made his head foggy as his airflow was restricted by the flatter part of the blade.

George was barely able to process the fact that Dream was slowly starting to move towards the wooden wall, still holding onto George tightly. The panic and lack of airflow was really starting to get to him.

"If you follow me, I won't hesitate to kill him," Dream said darkly. George could vaguely see his friends' faces, the looks of horror and despair on their faces not encouraging in the slightest.

He felt Dream's right arm loosen slightly, allowing Flame to easily leap away from their place held to George's chest. After that though, Dream only tightened his grip around the smaller man, seeming almost ready to lift him clean off the floor.

George was rudely yanked out of the fire-lit room, Dream hastily shoving some planks into the way of the gap. Clearly he wasn't confident enough in his threat.

Continuing to drag George even farther, Dream was walking backwards and watching the blank wooden wall. George could hear nothing from the other room and hopelessness started to settle into him.

Once Dream had gone around a bend, he dropped George onto the ground and knelt beside him, turning him onto his side so he could roughly tie George's hands behind his back with old string. Fearful brown eyes met harsh green ones, seeming to soften them, and Dream was a little less rough when he shoved a piece of wool into George's mouth. It felt eerily like what had happened a couple nights ago, but this time Dream was securing the wool with the same type of string as the one that kept George's hands tied behind his back.

"Not a sound," Dream muttered, picking George up and slinging him on his shoulder easily. As Dream started to run down the stony halls, George felt tears starting to prick at his eyes. The first of their kind in a long time.

He was well and truly fucked.


	14. Ravine

Weak torchlight flickered in the cave, revealing the entrance back into the abandoned mineshaft. Gritting his teeth in preparation for the confusing maze of tunnels once again, Dream pressed on, throat almost instantly coating with the dust hanging in the air.

Coughing, his pace faltered. Flame ran in front of him and turned around, easily catching up with him now that he had stopped and looking up at him with what could be concern. He offered them a weak smile, unsure of how to reassure a cat. They seemed content with it, however, moving forward to rub their head lightly on his lower leg. Dream smiled wider, adjusting the man he was carrying on his shoulder so he could crouch down and scratch Flame's head fondly.

The tied hunter shifted, seemingly uncomfortable, and sniffed once. Dream paused, noting how upset and afraid the sniff sounded. He wondered whether or not the other man had been crying. Sighing softly but barely moving his shoulders at all, he picked up Flame and let them curl up against his chest. Getting out of here was his first priority: he'd check on the hunter later.

He wasn't even sure how he'd deal with his enemy sobbing on his shoulder.

Dream continued on, now going at a brisk but easy walk. Running was a piece of cake, and he wasn't even tired yet, but if he started to sprint through these suffocating halls he was sure he'd be dead within minutes.

Coincidentally, it was only a few minutes before he found himself staring up the staircase that led back to the upper level. He was surprised, and a little confused, at finding it so quickly. How had it taken so long before?

Not sparing much extra thought for it, Dream hurried up the crudely formed steps. Perhaps it would drift into his mind later, but for now he needed to focus on escaping this stony, dusty prison.

The second level was much more confusing and Dream found himself in a lot more dead ends than before. He was finding it difficult to ground himself when everything felt so uniform, and he could swear that his head was starting to spin a little more with every step.

As he continued walking down the halls, he felt his pace gradually begin to slow. Eventually he was walking at a regular, almost awkwardly slow pace, all urgency and speed gone. His stomach growled and he made a soft but strained wheeze with every exhale.

Groaning, he stopped, dumping the hunter against the mine wall with a sense of carelessness and letting Flame jump down to the ground. Dream kneeled and opened his satchel, looking through it almost desperately before finding a cooked steak.

He sighed, leaning against the wall opposite from the hunter, who was watching him carefully as he ate. The other did not meet his gaze, instead choosing to look away and stare downward at his shoes through watery brown eyes. Dream almost felt bad, but his mind was so consumed with the hunger he hadn't recognised until he was near starvation that he could not spare a thought for the poor state the hunter was in.

After he had finished scarfing down the cooked meat, making sure to offer a fairly decently-sized chunk to Flame that the cat had gladly taken, Dream stood up. Now filled with new energy, he slung the captured hunter over his shoulder, hearing the other man give a muffled, indignant huff in reply. Even after picking up Flame, he found it much easier to carry the two than before, and with the tunnels starting to feel less like a maze he was hopeful that the exit would not evade him much longer.

When Dream turned a corner and saw daylight streaming down at the end of the tunnel, his heart almost leapt into his throat in his relief. He ran, doing his best not to jostle the hunter or Flame as he did so, but running all the same.

Sprinting right out into the sunshine, Dream stared up at the blue sky in pure joy. The vibrant greens and blues above him, along with the fresh air that was present even down here in the ravine, had been something he had deeply missed. But now another challenge had arisen, as he could clearly tell as he scanned the steep ravine walls for a way to climb out.

Taking a deep breath to compose himself, he walked towards a part of the ravine that seemed the easiest to start climbing up. The rocks here were more jagged and stuck out further, so they would be a good place to begin an ascent.

"Hold on," he grunted roughly to the hunter, letting Flame climb up onto his shoulders and dig their claws into his hoodie. The brunet tensed noticeably but, seemingly reluctantly, did his best to wrap his arms around Dream.

The first few steps up were simple; the footholds were large and in good places and Dream found enough spots to pull himself up a few feet at a time, finding himself at the first ledge after only a few minutes of climbing. Unfortunately, this very ledge had an overhang that left him utterly bewildered, completely unsure of how to continue.

He knew that he probably couldn't keep climbing up with the hunter slung over his shoulder; the man wasn't very heavy, but as a unit they would be too large and Dream would find it too uncomfortable to actually get anywhere. For a moment he considered going back down, but looking down at the surprisingly steep and jagged wall he had just scaled showed how that might be a bad idea. A water bucket would be a good way to get down, of course, but he hadn't seen any other good routes to get up to the first large ledge, so that could end up being pointless.

Setting the hunter against the ravine wall, staring directly into his frightened brown eyes, Dream weighed his options. He could let the hunter climb up on his own, but there was no saying whether or not the other was a good climber. And if he was, he could push Dream all the way down to the bottom of the ravine. Another option was to leave the brunet here, either to pull him up when Dream himself got up to the top or abandon him for good. He had already gone through enough trouble than the other man was worth to get him here, and the hunter could be useful as a bargaining chip later, so he shook off the latter idea.

"Can you stay here?" Dream asked gruffly, feeling a strange mix of pity and delight when the hunter looked up at him with fear blatant in his eyes.

The hunter's response was muffled, absolutely unintelligible through the wad of wool still stuffed in his mouth. However, due to the questioning tone still detectable even through the muffledness, Dream elaborated, "just for a little bit, I need to get up."

His eyes following where Dream's finger was pointing, the brunet looked up towards the tip of the overhang. He shifted uncomfortably in his restraints but still gave the blond a short nod, drying tear tracks catching the light with whatever moisture was left.

Dream wasn't entirely sure why he was trusting the hunter with so much, but he found himself kneeling and untying the strings holding the other man's wrists, even rubbing at the harsh pink marks carefully to try and soothe them.

"No funny business," he said sternly, trying to make up for the gentle actions. "I just need your hands free so you can grab the rope I'm gonna pull you up with."

The brunet hunter nodded, rubbing his wrists with the same sort of carefulness Dream had used. The dirty blond returned the nod with a curt one of his own, looking away from the other man.

"C'mon, Flame," he mumbled to the cat as he started to stand up, pausing for only a moment to let the patchy cat jump up onto his shoulders. Dream might trust the hunter to not try and get away, of course mostly because he didn't believe the hunter actually had the skills to climb back down into the ravine, but he only trusted himself to get Flame up safely.

When he had reached the edge, he turned around to look up curiously at the overhang. After a moment of careful scanning, he found a place where it would be possible to pull himself. Walking over, he reached up and grabbed the ledge firmly, taking a deep breath before pulling himself up and slinging his leg over so he would be more properly supported.

Even that small action had left Dream near breathless and he found himself taking another deep breath when he was sat upon the overhang, not from the activity itself but from the knowledge of the danger he was in. Not only from the potential drop that would surely, if not kill him, gravely injure him, but also the fact that maybe he had trusted the hunter a bit _too_ much. The brunet, if he wanted, could easily drag him down.

Despite the anxieties slowly gnawing at him, Dream persisted, finding footholds and protruding rocks he could grab to carefully, almost painfully, make his way up the side of the ravine. There weren't many small pebbles in the canyon, which he found odd. Either the rain never fell here or someone else had come by and swept them all away. Dream couldn't make sense of either option, so he pushed it out of his mind.

Nearly at the top, Dream found himself spurred forward by a burst of energy. In fact, the boost was too much, as he boldly leapt up and found no foothold to support him. He was now dangling, protected from death only as long as his grip would last. Looking up, he saw that he had only a little bit to go before he was safe on the surface, but his arms were starting to ache already from the strain of suddenly having to carry his, and Flame's, entire body weight.

Flame mewed fearfully from their place on top of his shoulders, claws seeming to dig into his hoodie a bit tighter. Dream found himself shaking involuntarily, his mouth suddenly too dry and his breath too short. He tried to look down, wanting to know if there was a hold he could jump down to safety, but his position was too close to the wall to allow it as the edge of his mask slammed against the stone.

Almost desperate to ease the pain in his arms and get himself and Flame to safety, Dream looked wildly side to side. And to his left, as if the gods were smiling down upon him, he found a small ledge that he could easily get to if he swang himself to the side.

"Hold on, Flame," he exhaled, his voice sounding high and dry. The cat gave a small meow in response, digging their claws in tighter as he began to swing his body back and forth. He winced, the pain in his arms only growing, but he pushed through it.

With one last strong swing to the side, Dream let go, finding himself hurtling downward and to the left, thankfully towards the small ledge. The landing was as graceless as one could be, his left leg bending and hitting the ravine wall while the right was slammed right into the side of the ledge. He swore heartily under his breath, completely aware that the impact could have rightly earned an undignified shriek but keeping in mind the other person still in the ravine.

Dazed by his pain, he hadn't even noticed how Flame was trembling on his shoulder, clearly not entirely prepared for such a drop. He gently pried them off his hoodie, wincing when their claws grazed his skin before holding them to his chest and petting them, whispering soothing words as they clung to him pitifully.

"Alright, Flame, we're going up, okay?" he mumbled, looking right into the small cat's heterochromatic eyes. Flame mewed softly and, almost reluctantly it seemed, crawled onto his shoulder to dig their claws into the heavy fabric of his hoodie once again. Dream smiled to himself before sighing and standing up, easily picking out the holds he needed to finally find his way to the top.

Once Dream was at the top, he simply turned over and flopped onto his back. He was exhausted, almost to the point of having no energy left. Between the fight with BadBoyHalo, the sprints through the dusty mineshaft, and now nearly dying while climbing up a ravine, he was entirely spent. As he stared up towards the sky, feeling a soft content seep into him as he did so, he noticed that the sun wasn't even close to setting.

A soft groan escaped his mouth as he sat back up again, but the sound was filled with no real upset. He was finally back on the surface, and he was gonna try to get as much time up here as he could.

Remembering the hunter who was (hopefully) still waiting near the bottom, he reached into his bag and grabbed the string he had there. He had managed to collect a fair bit, as he had found no real use for it yet and it stored easily, but he was still unsure that it would be enough to create a secure rope.

Fingers working with an uncharacteristic clumsiness, Dream eventually managed to fashion a long rope that he could only hope would be able to reach the hunter. Walking over to roughly where he thought he should lower the rope, he found a fairly large boulder there which Flame jumped onto eagerly, sitting upon it and looking at him with interest. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself for the pulling and threw one of the rope's ends over the edge.

He stayed there for a moment, knowing that if this wasn't the spot he could just move a bit to one side or the other, but soon the rope went taut with a weight on the other end. Taking a deep breath, he started walking backwards, pulling the rope along.

The process was slow; he didn't want to hit the hunter against a rock that Dream couldn't see, so he was giving him enough time to try and move out of the way. It seemed to be working, as the weight on the rope never faltered.

Dream had walked back a fair distance away, Flame still watching him from their perch on the boulder, when an arm popped over the edge of the ravine, brown hair and a boyish-looking face following soon after. Flame snapped their neck to look at the newcomer, standing up and stretching before jumping down to sniff at the hunter, who was pulling himself up awkwardly.

Eventually the hunter let go and the rope went slack, Dream watching as Flame decided that the other man was worthy of a headrub that the hunter accepted with surprise and quiet delight. Walking over to the other two, Dream started collecting the rope until he was standing right in front of the hunter, who was now looking up to meet his eyes even through Dream's mask. He noticed that the wool was gone from the other's mouth, probably thrown away as soon as Dream had left, but the strings that had held it in place were now loosely hanging on the hunter's neck.

"So," Dream started, clearing his throat awkwardly before extending his hand to the other man. "Time to go, I got a lot of shit to do."

The man's expression darkened slightly and he stood up, ignoring Dream's outstretched hand, "oh yeah, of course, yeah. What village are you burning today?"

Dream felt a bit taken aback. This man knew about yesterday's village? They were in the area now, but would he really have attributed that to Dream?

However, despite his initial surprise, Dream said nothing in direct response, instead saying, "whatever dude, give me your arms."

"What?" the man asked, indignance clear in his tone. Dream almost rolled his eyes. Of course, out of three hunters, he had to pick the most annoying and stubborn one.

"Your hands, now," he ordered, taking a different approach. It clearly had an effect, as for a moment he could see a trace of fear flit through the other man's eyes. The hunter did nothing else to show it, though, instead crossing his arms in a show of defiance. Now Dream really did roll his eyes. His hoodie fit the man perfectly, the neon green a perfect complement to the man's own annoyingness.

It looked as if the man was about retort to Dream's eye roll, but he had no chance as Dream spun him around fast, grabbing his arms in the process and holding them there as he grabbed some string to tie them together. Apparently it hadn't been the smoothest transition, and the man shrieked in pain when his arm was twisted awkwardly behind his back. Dream took the time to adjust its position, the hunter's struggles no match for the vice grip he maintained on his wrists. Soon the man's hands were tied behind his back again and Dream turned him around, almost bursting into laughter when he saw the daggers the hunter was shooting at him.

"Shut up," the hunter said, flushing slightly when he saw Dream's amusement. Dream just shook his head, chuckling softly. Flame walked up and rubbed their head against his leg, prompting him to crouch down and pick them up.

"Not my problem you're bad, dude. Anyway, this is Flame," he started, gesturing to the cat, who gave a soft mew in response. "And I'm Dream. You're gonna be with us for a little while."

The man scoffed, "I know who you are."

Dream raised one arm in mock surrender, the other maintaining an easy hold on Flame, "hey, hey. Just making sure you know it. What's your name?"

The hunter lifted his eyebrows in a serious questioning look, "you just kidnapped me and now you want to know what my name is?"

"I may have skipped a few formalities the two times we have seen each other," Dream replied dryly. "I suppose it's only right to know what to call you, otherwise I'll guess."

This time only one of the hunter's eyebrows shot up, giving him a curious air, "you'll guess?"

"Yeah, I'll guess."

The hunter snorted, giving a small nod, "go ahead then, guess."

"George."

The hunter looked genuinely impressed, although he tried to hide it, simply responding, "how'd you get that?"

Dream grinned and shrugged, silently thanking Bert for being so chatty to strangers he didn't know, "a cleric never reveals his trades."

George rolled his eyes, shaking his head gently, "okay, now that we're friends, can you untie me?"

"Only if you say please," Dream teased, wanting to see the other's reaction. He was not disappointed when the hunter huffed and shook his head with an air of finality.

"Alright, never mind then."

"Hey!" Dream said, "maybe if you're good I'll do it for free. Besides, you're gonna love travelling with me, I swear."

"I'm sure I will," George murmured darkly under his breath. Dream pretended not to hear, starting to lead George back in the direction of the river so they could cross and go looking for a lava pool.

The nether was Dream's next stop.


	15. Pickaxe

"Fuck," Sapnap hissed harshly, starting to pace and repeating the same word over and over again.

"Language," Bad replied weakly, sinking down to sit against a rock on the ground, staring blankly at the patched up plank wall.

"What am I supposed to say?!" Sapnap exclaimed, reaching his hands up to grab at his messy hair in angry desperation.

Bad said nothing in response. It had been only a minute or so since Dream had dragged George away from them, but that minute had been filled with nothing but horrified silence as the two men left tried to grasp the situation.

"George is going to fucking die!" Sapnap ranted. Bad realised that he had spaced out while his friend was talking. "Gtorge is going to die and it's because of us! God!"

Sapnap sank slowly to the ground, staring dejectedly at the fire, his back almost completely to the older hunter.

"We're so stupid," he murmured. 

"I'm sorry," Bad said weakly, unsure of how to calm his friend down. When the other didn't reply, he was entirely unsure about whether or not that was the right thing to say.

"Should we go after them?" Sapnap eventually asked, his tone unfairly flat.

"I don't know," the other answered, starting to pick anxiously at a small hole in his pants. "I don't think George is in immediate danger, but he might be if we go after him."

Sapnap looked at Bad, his eyes conveying a sort of angry confusion as he tried to figure out what the older was trying to say.

"Why do you say that?"

"Well," Bad hesitated, unsure of how to articulate his thinking, "I'm not entirely sure, but I've got a hunch that Dream was the one who fixed up George's arrow wound."

Sapnap was silent, his expression showing no particular emotion, so Bad continued on awkwardly, "I'm just thinking that, if Dream was the one who patched him up, and then gave him his hoodie, he probably wouldn't kill him so quick?"

"That's too big of a risk, Bad," Sapnap replied curtly. "At least if we go after them now, we could catch Dream off guard and get George back mostly in one piece."

"Sap..." Bad said, voice trailing off as he thought of what to say next, getting frustrated at how hard it was to put his current thoughts into actual words. He worked in feelings and plans, not in secret thoughts like these. "I really don't think Dream's the type to kill."

At this Sapnap seemed really mad, almost ridiculously so. He shot up, walking over quickly to where Bad was sitting and staring him down in a way that made Bad squirm nervously where he sat.

"You think that _Dream_ is not the type to kill?" he asked, voice laced with poison that Bad didn't want to take. "Are we talking about the same person, Bad?"

"Sapnap," Bad said shortly, suddenly feeling extremely tired and a bit scared, "I'm just saying, he made all these weird excuses to avoid killing me. When we were fighting. That's just not what I'd expect. And even when we were fighting him here, he was being more defensive than he could have been, you know what I mean?"

The younger seemed to be calming down a little, but he had a sort of spit to his next words that wasn't common for his normal speech, "maybe he was just tired, Bad. I'm sure even maniacs have their off days. George is in danger and we _need_ to get him back. Now."

"Sapnap," Bad repeated, his voice now more clearly frustrated and final. "Don't even think that I don't want George back, because I do just as much as you. Dream is smarter than you think, I'm sure of that. Please, just trust me on this one."

Sapnap's face softened, his eyes shutting a little as he thought it over. Eventually he sighed, walking back over to the fire and stamping it out.

"Fine. But if George ends up dead, I'm never talking to you again."

"I know," Bad answered softly. "That's what I'd deserve."

Sensing his friend's slow sink into a depressive state, Sapnap walked over quickly, all anger and frustration at the other seemingly gone in an instant, "alright, Bad, what are we going to do now?"

Bad thought about it for a moment, getting up with a gentle sigh before adjusting his bag into a more comfortable position, "I guess we get some better stuff? That way, next time we face Dream, we'll have a better chance of taking him."

"Sounds good to me," Sapnap replied, now seemingly genuinely satisfied, going to pack up the rest of their stuff into his bag before walking over to the other man. Wordlessly, he offered Bad a cooked porkchop that the elder took gladly. It was still warm and managed to cure the gnawing ache in his stomach that he had barely noticed until now. 

Walking out into the rest of the cave, Sapnap and Bad fell into step with each other, their footsteps echoing through the tunnel. One beat, then the next, then the next, each step taking them further down into the depths, past the abandoned portal and down to other places where Sapnap hadn't been yet. 

The journey was spent in silence, the two still stewing in their own respective thoughts. Every once in a while one would spot some iron or coal, veering out of step to get it while the other stopped and waited patiently. The iron always went into Bad's bag, while the coal went into Sapnap's.

But still they said nothing. 

Eventually, they found the entrance to the abandoned mineshaft.

"You're gonna wanna cover your mouth here," Bad warned gently, his pace falling out of step with Sapnap's as he slowed to pull up his checkered scarf so it would cover his mouth. The younger slowed his pace subconsciously as he looked over questioningly at the other hunter.

"Why?" he asked, already reaching to pull up his bottom shirt over his mouth.

"Lotta dust," the elder replied, his words muffled through the fabric.

They started walking through the mineshaft, a task that Bad was internally groaning at. He knew there were no ores here, and he had firsthand experience with how confusing the sharp tunnels were. However, maybe with the help of having a friend by his side, it felt much easier to get through the mineshaft this time, and after only about ten minutes they found themselves looking right at the stairs to the next floor.

"Again?!" 

Bad chuckled into his scarf at Sapnap's exasperated exclamation, the cheery noise lost in the fabric. He nodded, repeating what Sapnap had said. The other shook his head in disbelief before stepping forward and walking up the stairs, waiting at the top so Bad could catch up. 

The halls seemed to zigzag back and forth, often branching off into more and more tunnels. Even with the protection his scarf provided, Bad could feel how heavy the air was. He hoped that Sapnap's thin shirt was enough to protect him properly. 

Finally, daylight showed itself at the end of the tunnel. Sapnap sprinted towards it desperately, his satchel swinging behind him as he dashed into the sunlight. Bad chuckled, making sure to clip his satchel to his belt before jogging after his friend.

"Bad, there's a ravine!" Sapnap whined, looking up the steep, stony walls. As Bad walked up next to him, pulling his scarf down to breathe the slightly fresher air, he saw that they were indeed in a ravine. 

"C'mon Sapnap, we'll be fine! It's just a little climb."

It was, in fact, neither fine nor a little climb. Sapnap had found the first holds he could and started scampering up the side of the ravine, not waiting for Bad who wanted to find the best way up. When he wasn't even halfway at the top, Sapnap had gotten stranded on a ledge and yelled down to Bad that there was nothing to help him climb up. The other hunter had taken this into consideration and found some good holds only a little bit away from where Sapnap had started, starting to climb up and soon reaching a ledge that was below the other man's.

"Just jump down! I'll try and catch you," Bad shouted up after looking around the platform for something to break his friend's fall but only finding a soaked and dirty piece of wool on the ledge overhung by his. Sapnap looked doubtful but, after a few glances around showing him that there really wasn't another way to go, he took a step back before jumping the gap.

Sapnap awkwardly landed in Bad's arms, knocking both men over and nearly throwing them off the ledge entirely. Bad winced under the weight of his friend, thankful that the other stood up quickly. He sat up and coughed, looking up at his friend.

"You could have been more gentle!" Bad complained, rubbing his rib cage where Sapnap's elbow had dug in. Sapnap rolled his eyes, walking over to the wall and already starting to climb again.

"I'm so sorry Bad, I'll control my fall next time," he replied sarcastically, but there was an underlying apology to his words that the older brunet did not miss.

The rest of the climb was fairly uneventful. There were no small rocks resting on the holds they used, and as a result none pierced their skin to make climbing tougher, but that didn’t stop them from scraping their palms whenever they misjudged a hold. Bad found it slightly odd that there were no clear signs of weathering in the ravine, but the thoughts scattered from his mind when Sapnap got too cocky and nearly slipped and fell onto him.

Eventually, panting and clutching their scraped hands, Bad and Sapnap found themselves back on the surface. Bad coughed several times, the coughs hoarse and scratchy as he struggled to catch his breath.

"I'm guessing they came out this way, they must be close," Sapnap said, his eyes narrowed. Bad simply coughed a few more times in reply, surprised that Sapnap had caught his breath so quickly. 

"I'm gonna start smelting this iron, how much do you have?" the other man continued, reaching into his satchel and grabbing some cobblestone, a crafting table, and the coal they had gotten. As Sapnap crafted a furnace, Bad rummaged around in his bag, finding a surprising amount of iron and handing it to Sapnap. 

"Awesome, we're about to be kitted out," Sapnap proclaimed with delight, carefully placing the unrefined iron into the furnace and watching as it smelted into ingots.

Bad gave a weak smile, his cough gone but his throat still feeling scratchy. Despite being physically fit enough, he had never been very good at taxing physical activities like running or climbing and was always left out of breath after them. Sapnap, on the other hand, must be some sort of machine, as it looked as if he had already completely recovered from the climb. 

Looking around the area as they waited for the iron to finish, Bad noticed that they must be in the same huge plains biome as before. There were small clumps of trees dotted here and there, but the majority of the land was flat and extended that way for as far as he could see.

"Hey Sapnap, what's that?" he asked, pointing towards a clump of trees. He might be wrong, but he could swear that there was cobblestone over there. Sapnap followed the direction of his finger before turning back to him, looking at Bad like he was crazy.

"There's some trees?" Sapnap replied, a note of disbelief in his voice. 

"No, no, behind the trees," Bad explained, standing up and walking towards the trees to try and get a better look himself. As he got closer, there was no denying the presence of cobblestone only partially hidden by some of the trees.

"Sapnap, Sapnap," he looked back to his friend excitedly, "I think there might be a village!"

Sapnap's eyebrows shot up with interest, nodding quickly and standing up to follow the other hunter. Bad waited until his friend was near him before turning back towards the tiny group of trees and walking towards the cobblestone. 

"Oh my god."

They had walked through the trees together, eyes trained on the cobblestone, when they had suddenly found themselves looking upon a long-abandoned, and apparently recently burned, village. Bad's eyes darted around, looking from the broken cobwebs to the charred woods and finally to Sapnap's face. His friend hadn't replied to his exclamation, or even given any indication that he had heard it all, and now seeing how empty he looked Bad felt even more worried.

"Sapnap?" he whispered, voice nearly breaking. Bad most likely didn't know anyone from this village, and it looked like everyone had left before the fire had swept through the structures, but it was still a jarring sight to see a village so empty and destroyed.

Sapnap still gave no response but something sparked in his eyes. He walked ahead, making his way through the village like he had been there before. Bad followed reluctantly, getting a bad idea about the whole place. His friend eventually stopped in front of a house that looked to be the most destroyed by the recent fire, second only to the remnants of the house across the tiny street.

"Sapnap?" Bad repeated, now very worried for his friend. "Are you okay?"

Sapnap sighed, dropping his head and letting his eyes slip shut. The two of them stood in silence before Sapnap looked up at Bad, his eyes looking tired. 

"Sorry," he said softly, turning to face Bad completely. Unsure of what to do, Bad opened his arms invitingly, waiting for Sapnap to make the next move. The shorter brunet considered his gesture for a moment before stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Bad, burying his face in the other man's shirt. Bad hugged his friend back, trying to make him feel better even though he wasn't entirely sure what was wrong. 

"Have you been here before?" he asked quietly, reaching up to pet Sapnap's hair in what he hoped was a comforting way. Sapnap stiffened and he paused, waiting until the other relaxed again before hesitantly continuing the soothing movement. 

"Yeah," Sapnap replied finally, voice muffled by the fabric. He sighed into Bad's shirt, lifting his head and backing up enough to stare into the other's eyes. "This was my home."

"Oh god," Bad said without thinking. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know."

Sapnap didn't reply, instead moving to hug his friend tighter, an action which the other mirrored. 

"Maybe we should get out of here," Bad eventually said, voice soft. "There's probably nothing left. I'm sorry, Sapnap."

"Yeah," the other agreed, stepping away and taking one last glance at what Bad could only assume was his childhood home before starting to walk out of the village. "Nothing we can do."

The walk back to the furnace was quiet, and as they crafted armour it was just as silent. Bad had decided to let Sapnap process what he needed to without interruption. He'd be there if the other needed him. 

"Alright, I think we're done," Sapnap said, voice missing any sort of energy it would usually have. The shorter brunet slipped on a helmet as the last piece of armour he had crafted and Bad nodded in response to the other’s statement, pulling on his boots before standing up. The two were now fully armoured up in iron, both carrying an iron sword, pick, and a shield as well.

"Yep, I think we're ready to go after Dream and George now," Bad agreed, squinting up at the sun and trying to judge its position. All he really knew is that it had gone down further since they had come out of the ravine, but still wasn't close to setting completely. Sapnap nodded, packing up the furnace and adjusting his satchel so he could clip it to his belt.

"Pull out that magic compass, dude."

Bad did as he was told, reaching into his bag and pulling out the compass, seeing that the needle was pointing almost directly in front of them. Looking to Sapnap, he nodded before starting forward. 

They were back on the hunt.


	16. Portal

The wind blew gently across the plains, pushing blades of grass down before they fought their way back up. Shuffling awkwardly through the tall, thick grass were two men, the taller one carrying a patchy cat and leading the other by a rope. They were wandering both aimlessly and with a purpose, a purpose that the older didn't know yet.

"Where are we going?" George asked. He sounded tired, which was fair considering they had been walking for a couple of hours straight with no breaks.

"You'll see," Dream replied coolly. Although he didn't know what the hunter would do with such information, he didn't want to fill the other in completely on his plan. Besides, if he just heard that they were looking for a lava pool, the hunter could think that the lava was for him. Dream didn't really want to deal with that right now.

The other scoffed behind him, clearly not very satisfied with the answer he had been given. However, the brunet stayed quiet and the two proceeded in silence that was punctuated every once in a while by the rustling of grass and the oinks of pigs nearby. 

Dream halted, scanning the surroundings. The man walking behind him didn’t notice how the rope had slackened ever so slightly and walked right into the taller blond, giving a small noise of surprise before stepping back again. 

"Why'd you stop?" the older asked, and Dream could tell even without looking at him that the other man was flustered. Turning to look the other man in the eyes through his mask, he made a note of the man's lightly flushed face. 

"I'm looking around," he answered, adjusting his loose hold on Flame so he could grab the rope with his other hand. 

"We either go into the jungle," Dream continued, pointing towards the lush green biome that stuck out despite its distance, "continue through the plains, go into that forest, or head into the desert there."

George's eyes obediently followed Dream's finger as he pointed out the different biomes, moving to look at the blond's masked face when he was finished. He shrugged, shifting awkwardly where he stood.

"I don't care," he said, replying to a question that Dream hadn't verbalised. "I just want to sit down for a bit."

Dream hummed in response, turning back around and going through the options in his head. Plains was out, they had been going through the bland biome for so long that if they had to any longer he was pretty sure he'd fall to his knees and start screaming. Jungles were hard to navigate, but that would also mean difficulty for any pursuers after them. Forests were nice and cool, but they were otherwise fairly bland and he was worried that mobs would have an easy time finding shelter under the trees, as it was already nearing nightfall. Deserts were hot, but given how low the sun was that wouldn't be an issue for long. It was also much easier to find lava pools there.

Making his mind up, Dream started towards the desert, pulling on the rope and causing George to yelp in surprise at the unexpected movement. He chuckled softly, enjoying how vocal the other boy was in his reactions. It made things more entertaining. 

The sand was littered over the grass of the plains, creating a smooth gradient between the two biomes. As the two men continued walking further into the sandy desert, their feet gradually started to sink further into the sand as the grass disappeared beneath it. Even through the soles of his shoes, Dream could feel how hot the sand had gotten under the day's sun. He was considering letting Flame down so they could walk around for themselves, but that idea had gone out of the window real quick.

"Oh my god, you really had to pick the hottest one, didn't you?" George whined from behind him, noticeably pulling at his restraints in discomfort. Dream snuck a glance back at the other man, noticing the distasteful frown on the hunter's face as he glared at the hot and sandy environment. He chuckled breathily, boosting Flame up so the small cat could sit upon his shoulder and survey the land from a higher viewing point. Flame seemed satisfied with this new arrangement, rubbing against Dream's head once before clawing into his blue hoodie.

"I thought you said you didn't care?" Dream teased, continuing to pull the man through the desert with minimal resistance. "Besides, I'm looking for something here."

"What, a cactus?" the hunter scoffed behind him. Dream rolled his eyes, shaking his head for good measure so George would know of his disapproval. 

The setting sun helped the tall dunes cast shadows across the lower ground, shadows that George and Dream eagerly headed towards. While George simply enjoyed sitting down in the new shade, Dream took this opportunity to scan the surroundings again, hoping that the glow of lava would be highlighted in the shadows. 

His wish was granted when he spotted a soft orange glow coming out of a stony pit only a few dunes away. Almost forgetting that he was dragging someone else along, he stepped forward excitedly. 

"Hey!" the hunter exclaimed in protest, "I thought we were gonna take a break!"

Dream turned around in amusement, watching George get up awkwardly before the brunet glared at him, "why'd you think that?"

"Cause I said I wanted to sit down?" George replied, a look of distaste and indignance clear on his face. Dream cocked his head in an innocent-looking display that added an extra bite to his next words.

"Why would we do what you want?"

George's face fell noticeably, at once filled with both hurt and hate. Dream turned back around, pulling George along in the direction of the lava pool he had seen. The atmosphere between the two men, at one point nearly friendly, had returned to the one you'd expect between a captor and the man he had taken captive: filled with resent from one side and careful indifference from the other, with silence from both.

Dream almost felt bad; he didn't really want to hurt the other man, but he knew that he had to distance George. If they got close, it would just hurt more later. 

Despite scolding himself mentally, Dream still found himself waiting for George when the hunter started stumbling through the sand tiredly. 

"Do you want a break?" Dream asked dryly after George tripped over his feet for the third time. The brunet gritted his teeth harshly, standing up and not looking at Dream. He stood defiantly, not saying a word. 

Dream snorted, rolling his eyes before walking forward and picking up the hunter easily, making sure to sling him over the shoulder where Flame wasn't perched.

"I didn't ask for this," George protested quietly, trying to adjust himself on Dream's shoulder. Flame shifted on the blond's other shoulder, pawing at George.

"Hi kitty," he said, and even though Dream couldn't see the other man he could hear the smile in his voice. Flame gave a small mew in response before settling back into Dream's shoulder.

"I didn't need you to ask," Dream replied to George's original statement, starting towards the lava again. "It was either pick you up now so we can go, or leave you out here to the mobs."

He heard George swallow audibly, clearly thinking about being left here, tied up and at mercy to the monsters of the night. The other man noticeably lessened his movements, as if he were trying to hide himself. Dream decided not to tease the other about it, granting George a chance to maintain his dignity.

Not having to drag George behind him anymore, Dream was able to pick up the pace, finding himself staring down into the heat of the lava pool before the sun had fully finished setting. Flame mewed at the sight of the molten lava below, their eyes lighting up with the intense orange glow. George, even though he was facing away from it, seemed to realise what the lava was by the heat and pops it released, tensing up in response.

"I'm not gonna throw you in, chill," Dream assured the hunter lazily, finding a way down into the half-covered stony pit and walking closer to the lava. George relaxed a little, but not enough to confirm that he truly believed Dream's words.

"What are you doing?" George asked, glaring at Dream when the other man set him down roughly on a boulder before starting to rummage in his green bag. Flame jumped down from Dream's shoulder, hiding behind George's boulder in clear fear of the bubbling lava.

"You know," Dream said, pausing for a moment in his search to look at George seriously, "I think I liked you better when you couldn't talk."

George scowled, moving to cross his arms before once again finding that they were still bound. He huffed instead, frowning, but his face softened when Flame strolled back over and rubbed their head against his lower leg, jumping into his lap and curling up. 

"What are you even doing?" George asked, seemingly ignoring the warning in Dream's voice.

The tall blond stood up, water bucket in hand, and walked over to the edge of the lava pool. The bound brunet watched him warily but with curiosity, unsure of what Dream was going to do.

Dream poured out the water, letting it flow over the lava and turn it to obsidian. When enough had been created, the blond scooped up the water and pulled out his diamond pickaxe, beginning the tedious task of mining the sturdy block.

"What the hell are you doing?" the brunet repeated curiously, a trace of annoyance in his voice. 

"None of your beeswax," Dream replied, continuing to mine at the obsidian. The process was slow, and the awkwardness hung in the air as George watched. Finally, Dream picked up all the obsidian he had mined, starting to place it in a rectangular shape.

"Are you building a portal?" the other asked, voice hushed. 

"Oh wow, you figured it out," Dream said sarcastically, placing the last block in the portal frame and stepping back to look at it.

"You're going to the nether?" George continued, voice quavering slightly. Dream sighed in annoyance, tearing his gaze from the unlit portal to the frightened-looking man.

"Yes, I am," Dream answered flatly before quirking an eyebrow, "you coming?"

"Don't have much of a choice, do I?" the hunter replied, face settling back down into a slight scowl. Dream shrugged, breaking into a playful grin.

"Guess not," the blond said, peering out of the pit and out into the night sky. "We should sleep." 

"I'm not sleeping while I'm tied up," George stated, staring at Dream with a mixture of distaste and frustration. 

"And what am I supposed to do about that?" Dream asked, walking back to his bag and pulling out his bed as well as enough planks and wool to make another.

"I didn't think you were stupid, Dream," the hunter spat with contempt, shifting in clear discomfort where he sat.

"I'm not stupid," the other retorted childishly. George rolled his eyes and shook his head, something that Dream copied before returning to the task of fashioning a second bed. 

"Alright, get in the bed," he ordered, making sure to not lay down in his own bed before the hunter did. Awkwardly, the brunet stood up and made his way over to the bed Dream had placed down for him, shooting a pointed glare at Dream before laying down on his front, arms still bound uncomfortably behind his back and bag awkwardly latched to his side. 

"Sweet dreams," Dream said with faux sweetness, grinning widely when the brunet glared once more in his direction and harshly replied, "fuck you."

Even though he was wearing a splitting smile on the outside, Dream felt an uncomfortable feeling inside him that started at the base of his stomach and slowly clawed up until it rested in the top of his chest and the bottom of his throat. Clearing his throat, he lay down in his bed and stared up at the stony ceiling. 

Flame mewed from the ground, their eyes meeting his when he turned his head to look. He smiled, patting his stomach and whispering nonsense to try and make them come up. They continued to stare at him, their expression almost stern. Then they gently rubbed the arm that Dream was hanging over the bed before walking away and jumping onto George's bed lightly. 

Dream felt betrayed, watching Flame gently walk up onto George's back and curl up there. The brunet shifted slightly, trying to crane his head back to look at the cat. When he did, Dream could see a small smile on his face. 

Turning his head again, Dream frowned at the ceiling, folding his arms over his chest. Today had been such a mess and now, at the end of it all, he was finding that he had been the messy part of it all along. 

George was a liability, he was finding that out quickly. If he untied the hunter, he'd surely kill him, right? And the hunters must be after them, which would either lead to a clean trade or a fight for the brunet. Dream was already so tired mentally, he doubted he could handle a fight against two trained hunters. 

_ 'But then again,' _ he thought, turning his head so he could look at George, noticing that Flame was happily sleeping on the hunter's back,  _ 'I can't kill him. So what am I supposed to do?' _

Dream lay there, tearing apart inside as he thought of what to do. It was difficult, he had found, to put up a front all the time. He had gotten out of the habit over the years in favour of simply expressing how he felt: it wasn't like there had been anyone to see at the time. He was still better than most, but it was taxing to smile when all he wanted to do was scream and break something.

Sighing, he stood up, walking over to George's bed. Flame perked up as he walked over, looking up at him curiously as he reached down and clumsily started to untie the hunter's restraints. George tensed under his touch, quickly relaxing when he realised what the other was doing. 

When Dream was finished he pulled away, shoving the string in one of his pockets and picking up Flame. George flipped over, looking up at him with questioning surprise.

"If you try to get the best of me, I'll murder you on the spot," Dream said coldly, knowing that he was lying through his teeth. George nodded slowly, eyes narrowing as he rubbed at his marked wrists.

"Thanks," he mumbled, "I guess."

"Don't thank me," Dream replied shortly before turning away and walking towards the other bed, his words not conveying the level of sincerity he really felt towards them. He heard George snort quietly behind him before sheets rustled and eventually stilled.

Placing Flame on the bed, Dream slipped under the light blanket and immediately curled up, smiling gently when Flame nuzzled their face against his. They cuddled into him, purring softly as they slipped into sleep. Dream followed their lead, shutting his eyes and trying to think of good things.

Just as he was about to slip into unconsciousness, Dream suddenly became aware of distant voices above them. He listened with bated breath, confirming that there really were other players around. Now fully awake, he sat up, to the annoyance of a rudely awaken Flame, before quietly slipping out of bed. 

The voices were getting closer, seemingly directly above them now. He stood completely still, staring up at the pit's entrance. Against all his silent wishes and prayers, a familiar face appeared over the edge, splitting quickly into a wide smile.

"I found them!"


	17. Sand

"I found them!"

Sapnap snapped his head to Bad, seeing his friend kneeling on the ground and staring down into what must have been some sort of cave, compass in hand. The younger hastily made his way over, dropping to his knees and peering over the edge of the pit to see inside, holding their torch in front of him. 

Indeed, there stood the tall blond named Dream, smiling mask still worn on his unseen face. It didn't skip Sapnap's notice how the outlaw was still wearing the dark blue hoodie, its origins unknown to the hunters. He was staring up at them, sword tightly gripped in his hand and glinting whenever the flickering light struck it just right. There was an element of motion to him that told Sapnap that he must have drawn his sword after he had seen Bad.

They had surprised him, but he was still ready. 

The young brunet wasn't sure whether to smile or frown at this revelation, so he instead opted to narrow his eyes at the criminal. He let his eyes briefly flit around the dim room, but the current position he and Bad were in only allowed him to see one bed and a small cat standing upon it, only noticeable by the light that reflected off its eyes. George must be in there as well, somewhere. 

Bad was saying something to Dream, but Sapnap wasn't paying attention. Even in the low light he saw Dream smile at Bad's words, noticing how strained it was. It made him uneasy, how he couldn't tell where exactly Dream was looking. The blond outlaw could be staring them down or darting his eyes around the room distractedly, or anywhere in between.

God, he was looking forward to taking this fucker out.

The other hunter stood up, an action that Sapnap copied absentmindedly. He looked up to Bad, trying to figure out what the plan was, but only seeing that the other was looking at him as well. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw a quick movement, seeing Bad turn his head with an expression of surprise. The younger one snapped his head to look as well, eyes widening when he saw the small stone Dream had thrown hit a compacted chunk of sand that was hanging with no support below it.

That small stone punched a hole in the compacted sand, letting it fall apart and causing a surprisingly fast chain reaction that broke down all the sand that had been holding up the rest with no support. Dream took a step back, clearly satisfied with his work, but Sapnap barely noticed it as the sand above the small cave's entrance as well as the sand under the hunters' feet dropped down quickly. The men were plunged into near darkness as their single torch was extinguished, the moon now their only light.

"George!" Bad yelled, digging himself out of the sand that had buried him up to his waist as fast as he could. "Sapnap, I saw George!"

Even through the sand covering the entrance, the two hunters heard a small yelp that sounded awfully familiar, motivating them to dig themselves out quicker. Once they had finished they ran to the sandy covering and began to shovel the loose grains out of the way as they desperately tried to get to their friend, hearing a scuffle going on inside. 

Soon they heard a pained shout that must have come from Dream, followed by a dull thud and silence. They dug quicker, Sapnap silently cursing the sand that kept falling whenever they managed to scoop a portion away and rendering their efforts fairly ineffective. If they were less terrified for their friend they would have stopped to make shovels or moved up higher, but the new silence struck such dread into both men that they had to make do with just their hands. 

"Hurry, hurry, hurry," Sapnap chanted quietly to himself, terror for him and Bad sinking in with the fear for George as soft groans of zombies sounded around them.

"Sapnap, calm down!" Bad pleaded, but the terror in his voice was not absent, nor was the way he picked up his digging pace every time a groan sounded closer. 

Finally, they broke through, making a hole that they realised had stretched all the way to the top. They stepped through, Bad making sure to hastily cover up most of the hole as a fairly certain shield against most mobs.

"Fuck, it's dark in here," Sapnap said, squinting and trying to make his way around the room that was only lit by the weak moonbeams coming in through the hole they had left.

"Language," Bad scolded, rummaging in his bag and pulling out an unlit torch before striking it against the cave's wall. As its soft orange glow illuminated the room, Sapnap could now see the bed that he had been only inches away from tripping over. 

"Woah," the older said in awe, shining his torch on something. Sapnap turned his head to look, mouth dropping open slightly at the obsidian frame.

"A portal?" the younger questioned, walking closer and tapping the frame as if to confirm it was real. "He's not planning on going to the nether, is he?"

"I don't know," Bad said truthfully, moving the torch so he could scan the room. "We should get George before trying to figure it out."

"Agreed," Sapnap replied, glancing around the sandy room and seeing a small, unnatural-looking indent in the wall. Stepping closer, he saw that it was a tunnel leading out of the room.

"Hey Bad," he turned and waved the other man over, "I think I found where Dream got out." 

Both men started walking through the cramped tunnel, Bad going first to carry the torch in front with Sapnap in the back, sword ready. They quickly found out that the passage opened up into a tiny cave, briskly following it up to the surface and ignoring the dead-end clearly visible at the bottom. 

"Oh muffins," Bad exclaimed when they found themselves back up on the desert floor, sickly grey husks groaning in the distance. The monsters hadn't noticed them yet, but it surely wouldn't be long until they did.

"Where did they go?" the older continued, getting an awkward shrug from the other hunter.

"Let's look back at the portal, I'm guessing Dream would want to come back to it," Sapnap suggested. Bad nodded and they started in the direction they had come from. 

"Sapnap! Look out!" Bad shrieked after he had turned to look back at his friend. Sapnap ducked, hearing an arrow fly over his head that just barely missed him. He straightened back up quickly, running at the skeleton that had fired at him and hitting the bow out of its hand with his sword before it could pull another projectile back. 

After losing its weapon, the bony monster was left nearly helpless, only able to rattle horrifically every time Sapnap struck it until it collapsed into bones on the floor. The hunter walked over to pick up the bow, leaving the bones behind, before heading back over to Bad. 

"Nice reflexes," Bad complemented with a smile, falling into step with Sapnap. The shorter man gave him a grin, shoving the partially broken bow into his bag.

"Thanks, man."

The two men proceeded more carefully, making sure to take note of their surroundings. There weren't any mobs very close by, which they were grateful for, but you'd never know that a zombie had crawled out of some unseen cave until it grabbed you.

They weren't going to give any zombie the chance. 

"Here it is!" Bad exclaimed as they finally came upon the sandy pit. The small opening they had left was still there, and as they descended into the shallow pit Sapnap came across the extinguished torch he had dropped.

"Oh god," he heard Bad groan, spurring him to quickly grab the torch and shove it into his satchel before walking over to his friend.

"What is i-" Sapnap cut himself off when he saw the soft purple glow emanating from inside the cave. Bad looked at him, seemingly lost on what to do next. 

"Let's go in," the younger said awkwardly, not entirely sure what to do either. Bad nodded shortly and squeezed himself through the small hole, Sapnap following close behind. 

The portal frame, before empty and unlit, now held purple swirling light within its obsidian. Sapnap felt mesmerised, the purple swirls captivating him as they moved in a seemingly infinite pattern. The portal gave off soft, eerie noises, but neither hunter could tell whether it was the swirling lights or whatever was through it. 

"Do you think they went in there?" Sapnap asked, his voice thin and strained. He tore his eyes away from the portal and looked to his friend, a painful ringing in his ears. Bad looked away from the portal as well, biting his lip in concentration as he stared at the ground. 

"I guess," Bad replied, wincing and reaching up to grab his head. "I don't feel good."

"Yeah, same," the shorter agreed, shaking his head quickly as if to shake out the ringing. "Should we go in after them?"

"We should, I think," the other answered, nodding his head absentmindedly as he rubbed the back of his neck. "George is in there."

Sapnap nodded, sitting down as his head started to spin. He put his hands over his ears and shut his eyes completely, trying to block out both the portal and the noises of mobs outside that seemed to be getting closer. It seemed to help, as he felt his head starting to clear up a bit. 

"Check your compass," he said suddenly, his own words muffled to him as he kept his hands over his ears. When he opened his eyes slightly, he could see Bad walking around, his gait awkward and stumbling as he moved around the room. 

"They have to be in there," the other stated, sitting down near Sapnap. Bad's words were almost inaudible because of how muffled they were, so Sapnap lifted his hands away from his ears only a little bit so to hear his next words better, "The needle always points to the portal."

Sapnap nodded, clamping his hands back down and letting his eyes slip shut. He could vaguely hear Bad say his name, so he gave a noncommittal hum in return. 

"Sapnap," Bad repeated, now more clear. The addressed opened his eyes and looked up at his friend, once again lifting his hands away from his ears. The swirling and otherworldly sounds of the portal were now more audible, but Sapnap did his best to focus instead on his friend and what he was saying.

"If we're going in, we should go in now," the older hunter said strangely, swaying slightly where he sat. His eyes seemed to be focusing on nothing in particular and when Sapnap nudged him gently with his foot he gave no sign that he had noticed it at all. 

Gritting his teeth, Sapnap pulled his hands away quickly and grabbed his friend, yanking them both up so they were standing. It was a bit awkward due to how similar they were in height, but the younger managed to get them both to the swirling portal, helping his disoriented friend onto the obsidian. 

Now that they were in the portal, the light seemed to swirl around them more aggressively, completely engulfing Sapnap in its harsh purple glow. It felt warm and comfy before something changed and all of a sudden the hunter had the terrifying sensation that he was falling down, down, down, with the smell of smoke and ash getting more and more intense all the while.

And suddenly, almost too suddenly, it all stopped.

Sapnap felt absolute nothingness, just for a moment. And after that moment had passed, he felt the incredible heat around him even before he and Bad slumped out of the portal into their burning red surroundings, eerie and unfamiliar sounds echoing all around them.

They had made it to the nether.


	18. Lava

Dream gasped, the hot and heavy air making it difficult to breathe. He coughed when smoke snaked its way into his lungs and started looking around wildly at his new surroundings, his head still spinning from the portal trip.

"Fucking shit," he muttered, picking up George and slinging him over his shoulder, swaying ever so slightly where he stood. Flame mewed pitifully, shaking as they looked around, and he carefully picked them up and placed them in his bag, effectively shielding them from the harsh environment. 

He trudged along slowly, bore down by both the weight of the man on his shoulder and the intense heat around him. Everywhere he looked it was the same dull red, with small fires dotted here and there even in the narrow ravine that they had arrived in.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

It wasn't long before Dream was panting hard, the fires seeming to swell around him as the ceiling only got lower and lower. He was out of the ravine but now he was just walking through a long, long tunnel. Who knew where it would end, if it did at all. 

He was partially grateful for the fact that he had knocked George out back in the cave, but at the same time he missed the company. Sure, the hunter was a bit annoying and he might be too cowardly for the fiery nether, but just having someone to talk to would make Dream feel just a little better.

Flame mewed again and he absentmindedly reached down to pet them, opening his satchel slightly as he did so. They were still shaking a little bit, clearly very afraid of the unfamiliarity and danger of their surroundings, but they seemed to calm down a bit at Dream's steady pets.

Dream looked down, smiling when they looked up at him. They were panting quietly, tiny pink tongue sticking out as they did so. He gave them another gentle pat and looked forward just in time to see that he was about to walk right off the edge.

He stumbled back, surprised that he hadn't realised that the tunnel had so suddenly come to an end. Then again, his surroundings seemed to be entirely made of exactly the same material, a red, dry, rocky substance that crumbled easily under his feet when he had nearly stepped right off the edge.

When he looked up, his mouth fell open at the sight in front of him. A sharp contrast to the narrow, tight spaces he had just been wandering through, this place was huge and open. As he looked around he could see the lava lakes bubbling at the very bottom of the nether, as well as the glowstone stalactites casting light on the roof. Strange pig-like creatures milled about on lower levels, standing on two legs and clothed in leather. Dream wasn't entirely sure from this distance, but from what he could tell many of them were armed, either with crossbows or golden swords. As he strained his vision further, he could see what looked to be new biomes, all of them possessing the same dullness that the original one did, but in new colours of brown and black.

"It's okay, it's okay," he murmured soothingly as Flame mewed fearfully again. For a moment he truly regretted bringing them into the nether, noticing how they were still shaking as he reached down to pet them, but then again they would be all alone in the overworld. The hunters knew that they were his cat, who knew what they would choose to do if Flame was left unguarded.

From his position slung over Dream's shoulder, George murmured something before stirring. The tall blond froze for a moment, before lifting the other man off his shoulder and setting him against a rock on the ground. He shoved his hands in his hoodie's pockets, cocking his head and watching as the man slowly woke up. 

"Holy fuck," George murmured groggily, clutching his head and hissing harshly. "Did you really have to hit me so hard?"

"I think the situation demanded it, yes," Dream replied, the coolness of his tone a heavy contrast to their surroundings. The hunter squeezed his eyes shut to maintain some control over his fluttering eyelids, before opening them just to glare at Dream.

"I would beg to differ," George retorted, his eyes drifting away from Dream's figure and onto their surroundings, widening as he looked all around. Dream snorted and shook his head, noting how slurred together the other's words were. 

"Then beg," he said dryly before walking over to a shell-shocked George and offering him his hand. "Anyway, let's get going."

"You actually took us to the nether," George whispered in awe, seemingly not hearing what Dream had said and ignoring his outstretched hand. Dream sighed impatiently and nodded, shaking his hand up and down a couple times.

"Yeah, I did, let's go," he answered. "It's hot as hell here."

"Shocking," George replied sarcastically, eyeing Dream's hand for a moment before grabbing it and helping the other man pull him up. Dream reached into his bag and carefully pulled out Flame, who immediately grabbed and clung to his hoodie sleeves. The blond winced at the few claws that managed to sink into his skin, handing Flame in George's general direction.

"Here, you carry them. Flame seems to like you," Dream said. George arched an eyebrow but gladly took Flame, the small cat seeming to relax in his arms.

"Baby," George murmured affectionately, rocking Flame back and forth and drawing a small mew from them. Dream rolled his eyes and turned away, trying to hide the soft smile playing on his face.

"Alright, let's go," Dream continued before turning back to George darkly. "You better make sure nothing happens to Flame, alright?"

George nodded, holding Flame just a little bit tighter, "I will."

Dream nodded shortly and started to walk forward, pausing for only a moment to make sure George was following close behind. 

He was, so they continued on.

Even though nothing in the nether had noticeably changed for Dream, besides the new openness of the space, it felt more bearable with someone to walk with. George wasn't his friend, definitely not, but you didn't need a friend here. You just needed something to ground you in what you knew. Someone else from the overworld.

The going was still slow, as George gradually recovered from (and complained about) Dream hitting him over the head. Eventually they stopped for a bite to eat, sheltering themselves in a small alcove in the nether wall. 

"So why are you here?" George asked, offering a piece of his steak to Flame, who eagerly scarfed it down. Dream fell silent for a moment, contemplating.

As previously established, he and George were in no way friends. However, there comes a point when you are stuck with someone for hours and hours where you both silently decide to tolerate each other, even if you hate each other (which the two definitely did, of course). Dream and George had just reached that point, it seemed. Besides, if he told George, what could the hunter really do, at least for the moment? 

"I'm looking for something," he eventually settled on, something he couldn't quite place holding him back from keeping it less vague, but still letting George know that he wasn't here solely to throw him in one of the many lava lakes. It would come to that if the hunter kept complaining though, which is exactly what the other decided to do.

"Oh wow, you bring the three of us to the nether just so you could look for something," George said dryly, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms, his eyebrow arched and his eyes dark. "Tell me, are we looking for some family heirloom? The head of the piglin king who killed your friend? More ender people so you can set them loose in villages?"

"Piglin?" Dream asked, deciding to ignore the rest for the moment. George rolled his eyes and nodded.

"Yeah, piglins. The pig people down there, duh. How much do you even know about the nether?" the hunter replied, unimpressed.

Dream flushed under the mask, partially in embarrassment and partially in irritation, retorting, "well then how do you know so much?"

George shrugged, "I don't know that much, really. It's just back in my home country we had more books about the nether. It seems to be a touchy subject here."

"Did you guys go to the nether a lot?" Dream asked excitedly. Maybe George had been here before and could serve as a guide. However, the brunet shook his head.

"No, the nether and potions were banned, just like they are here," George answered, rubbing the back of his neck absentmindedly. "It's just that we had, like, books about the nether. And a few artefacts. Things like that."

"Huh," Dream commented shortly, beckoning to Flame and smiling softly when the cat walked over and curled up in his lap. "Sounds fascinating."

"It's interesting," George agreed, fiddling with the bottom of his hoodie before pausing. Seemingly deciding on something, he lifted the green hoodie over his head and folded it before setting it near his pack. Dream watched the whole thing, grinning impishly by the end.

"Finally tired of wearing my shit?" he asked teasingly, causing George to scoff and roll his eyes.

"Shut up," the hunter replied, crossing his arms and glaring at the blond, "it was cold before, and now it's not."

"Damn, I have my own personal weatherman now," Dream joked, wheezing when George made a face. As Dream lauged, George's face slowly softened and he finally gave a short laugh, shaking his head.

"You sound so stupid," George remarked, only making Dream wheeze louder. Flame looked up at Dream with an expression of annoyance and he quietly apologised to the cat between gasps for air. This didn't seem to be enough for them, as they got up and strolled back over to George, who eagerly took them into his lap. 

"Hey, you keep making fun of me and I'll eat you," the blond said once he had calmed down enough, remembering some of the brunet's first words to him. George stiffened a little but gave a nervous laugh.

"You don't actually eat people, do you?"

Dream barked a short laugh, shaking his head, "no, I don't. I really don't know where you got that from."

George flushed a little and rubbed the back of his neck, "I don't know, that's just what I heard."

Dream snorted, "so you'll just believe anything you're told?"

George scrunched up his nose, retorting, "no! You just already sounded so bad, it sounded believable!"

"Do you still think I'm that bad now?" Dream asked quietly, his tone briefly dipping into a more serious one.

He didn't know exactly why he was asking. Of course, if George asked, Dream would just say it was simply curiosity. But really, it went a lot deeper than that: in a way he was asking George for validation. Validation that there was even a chance he could show the world that he was trying to be a better person. 

George didn't reply for a bit, instead petting Flame thoughtfully. He opened his mouth a few times during the silence that fell over the two men, movement that Dream watched carefully.

"You're not exactly what I expected," George said finally, looking up and meeting Dream's eyes even through the blond's mask. The way George stared at him, almost as if he was studying the hunted, made Dream twitch uncomfortably. The hunter narrowed his eyes and continued talking, shifting his eyes downward to the small cat in his lap as he pet them, "you're a lot more talkative and annoying than I expected."

"Hey! If anyone here is annoying and talkative, it's you," Dream objected, making George snort and roll his eyes.

"That's exactly what I mean," the brunet pointed out. Dream huffed and crossed his arms, "well, what else was unexpected about me?"

George looked up, eyebrow arched in questioning, "why do you care so much about what I think?"

Dream shrugged, replying, "I don't know, probably because you're one of the first people I've had a proper conversation with in quite a while?"

"Lucky me," the hunter muttered, moving to scratch Flame under the ears. A soft purring filled the alcove.

"I was surprised that you didn't kill me," George continued, a thoughtful look settling into his features. 

"You didn't kill me either," the blond replied. The hunter shrugged.

"Felt like I owed it to you, I guess."

"But I'm a crazed arsonist and killer," Dream pointed out, a small smile playing on his lips as he said it. "Why would you owe me anything?"

"Don't question me," George retorted, glaring at Dream. The hunted lifted his hands in mock surrender, nodding for George to continue. The brunet gave a short hum in reply.

"You're also fairly...temperamental. But in the way that, like, you're faking it," George said slowly, almost as if he was carefully choosing his words.

"What do you mean?" Dream asked suddenly, his attention wholly locked on the hunter in front of him. George looked up to him, his studying seeming a bit more intense.

"You act so heartless and mean one second, but the next it seems like you actually care," George elaborated, before frowning, "I can't tell which one you're faking."

Dream stayed silent.

"I guess you won't tell me," the hunter said shortly, sighing and looking back down to Flame. Dream watched them intently, seeing Flame tilt their head up to look George right in the eyes. The silence that felt upon the trio wasn't comfortable, but it was in no way hostile or cold either. It was simply silence.

"Time to go," Dream suddenly said, getting up and gathering his stuff. George obeyed quietly, cradling Flame and standing up. Noticing that the brunet had left his satchel on the ground, Dream leaned down and grabbed it before handing it to the hunter. George gave him a short nod and slung it over his shoulder. 

Jumping down out of the alcove, Dream scanned the well-lit area. The fires here burned eternally, always keeping everything in good light. He heard George jump down behind him before walking forward to stand right next to Dream.

"Alright," Dream said, "here we go."


	19. Compass

Sapnap coughed hoarsely, his head still swimming. He awkwardly rose to his feet, clutching his head as his ears continued to ring. Next to him, slumping out of the portal frame, was a now clearly passed-out Bad. All around them the sound of eternally burning flames battled to drown out the whooshes of the portal, and combined with the distant echoes and hostile noises also present in the nether it created the ugliest and most uncomfortable musical performance Sapnap ever had to sit through.

Still swaying where he stood, Sapnap reached down to grab the other hunter under his armpits, gritting his teeth as he slowly dragged the older man away from the portal. The portal seemed to have less effect on him now, either because it was weaker in the nether or he was getting used to it, and the ringing in his ears gradually went away.

He slumped against the wall of the tiny cave he had dragged Bad into. The other man was still out cold, not even moving, and Sapnap wondered for a brief moment if he was dead. That thought, however, was quickly extinguished when the older hunter finally stirred, his lips moving as he mumbled something Sapnap couldn't quite hear.

Sapnap was getting ready to stand up, planning on looking around a little bit so they could have some idea of the surrounding area, when Bad murmured something a little more audible.

"George."

The younger froze, now suddenly curious. He wasn't entirely sure what the other was experiencing, whether it be a simple dream or a full-blown hallucination, but he carefully watched as Bad's face twisted up into upset.

"Sapnap," the other murmured again, this time sounding more distressed. He continued to repeat the two names with shorter intervals, his voice getting quieter all the while. Near the end Sapnap could swear that he started adding the names of people that the younger hunter didn't recognise. Sapnap was fixated; where once there was the portal's eerie swirls now stood Bad's quiet chanting.

Bad screamed.

Sapnap almost fell backwards at the sound, especially when it was combined with Bad shooting up into a sitting position. He looked at the other with wide eyes, watching the other man pant heavily as tears started to well up in his eyes. When the other glanced just a bit to his right their eyes locked. Bad gave a weak smile, reaching up to wipe away what tears he had with his sleeve.

"Sorry for scaring you," Bad said softly, a trace of shyness in his voice. Sapnap just sat there, mouth hanging open slightly, not sure what to say. His friend wasn't the quietest sleeper, especially when it came to snoring, but he had yet to see him wake up screaming.

"Are you okay?" the younger asked worriedly. Bad nodded with a smile, standing up and dusting himself off before walking over and offering a hand to the still seated man.

"I'm just fine," he replied, his voice seeming so earnest even as his eyes showed an uncharacteristic disconnection. "We should get going."

Sapnap nodded silently, taking Bad's hand and helping the other pull him up. The older offered him another smile, a smile he weakly returned. They walked back out into what seemed to be a tall, narrow ravine. There was a dead end on one side, so they started walking through the long tunnel at the other end.

"Alright, the sooner we find George the sooner we have him back safe."

"And the sooner we can get out of here," Sapnap added, scowling at the fires casting moody but uncomfortably hot light onto everything around them.

"That too," Bad agreed, starting to rummage around in his bag for the compass. When he pulled it out, he shook it a few times before groaning.

"What is this?" he exclaimed in annoyance, showing the compass to the other hunter.

Sapnap shifted his gaze over to the metal instrument, slowing his pace a bit as he did his best to get a good look. The needle was spinning wildly, never pointing in a specific direction for more than a second or so. The shorter looked up to meet Bad's eyes, completely bewildered as to what to do.

"Are they going around that fast?" he asked, getting the feeling that what he asked was incredibly stupid. However, Bad didn't seem to know the answer either, as he simply shrugged and continued to stare at the messed-up compass.

"I'm guessing not."

"Maybe something down here is disturbing it?" Sapnap posited, gesturing around them vaguely. Bad nodded.

"That has to be it," he agreed, looking down the tunnel and lighting up a bit. "Hey look, there's the end!"

Sapnap was a little less cheery, on the other hand. He didn't know much about the nether (and he assumed Bad didn't either), but he was sure that in a place this eerie and dangerous the monsters lurking must be much, much worse than those in the overworld. In a tunnel they at least limited the directions they could be attacked from; in the open they didn't have that privilege.

"Woah," Bad breathed as they stepped out of the tunnel. Sapnap's mouth dropped open a little as he looked around as well. Tall, reaching walls that stretched all the way up to the nether ceiling and all the way down to lava lakes at the very bottom.

However, they barely had the time to gape at the impressive, if a bit grotesque, scene as something caught Sapnap's eye and he yelled for Bad to get down as an arrow came flying towards them. Bad was too slow to react, however, instead looking for what Sapnap was yelling about.

"Ouch!" the other exclaimed after the younger had knocked them both to the ground. Bad winced in pain as Sapnap tried to get up, unintentionally elbowing his friend in the stomach.

"My bad, my bad," he apologised hastily, getting to his feet and helping Bad up as well. He moved them to give them a little bit of cover from whatever had shot at them, hiding behind a wall at the tunnel's mouth.

"Oh," Bad suddenly said, and when Sapnap looked over he saw that his friend was staring at the arrow. The other brunet noticed his eyes on him and gave a sheepish smile. "I didn't see that."

"Eh, it's whatever," Sapnap replied, shrugging his shoulders a bit and pulling out his sword. "I'm gonna go fight whatever shot us."

"I'll help."

They carefully stepped out of the tunnel, swords drawn. Bad still held the compass tightly, where it had been nearly forgotten after it simply hadn't left it his hand. The two hunters looked around for what could have shot at them, finding nothing. For a moment, they relaxed, believing that the danger had passed.

Then all of a sudden the wood and string of a crossbow was visible just around the corner.

Bad shrieked as the strange monster turned the corner, crossbow already drawn and nearly ready to fire. In an act of pure instinct and fear, the seasoned hunter chucked the compass at the creature. Sapnap's heart dropped when Bad missed and the compass hit the ground a metre or so away from what looked to be a clothed, wild pig on two legs.

Maybe it wasn't so bad that he had missed, however, as the creature's interest was instantly drawn to the metal instrument. Sapnap and Bad watched in surprise and slight dread as the bipedal pig quickly walked to the compass and picked it up, starting to examine it.

The monster grunted once, looking over to them with pale eyes, before reaching into a small pouch attached to its belt and pulling out another compass, this one emitting a soft purple glow. Bad moved as if to take the hunter compass back but Sapnap held him back with one arm, watching the creature with narrow eyes as it tossed the new compass towards them and stuffed theirs into another pouch.

"No, give that back!" Bad protested, stepping forward when the bartering mob started walking away. Sapnap wasn't entirely sure whether or not the monster had understood Bad's words, but it still turned around and gave out a gruff grunt that could have been taken as a reply.

"Bad, no," Sapnap warned, his voice nearly a whisper as Bad started walking closer to the pig creature, tightening his grip on his sword. The younger felt frozen to the spot, only able to watch in horror as the monster started reloading their crossbow.

Finally, he broke out of his trance and dashed forward just as Bad forcefully struck the crossbow out of the creature's hands. The monster seemed a bit taken aback, but after a single beat it seemed to be even more enraged than before. It returned to a more feral state, striking at the attacking player with its hooves and tusks. Bad, who looked to be both surprised and terrified at this change, could only do his best to block the blows while delivering none of his own.

With a quick swipe of his sword, Sapnap pierced flesh. A sickly, nearly sweet smell perfumed the air as the pig monster squealed loudly, more than half of its ear now lying on the ground. The blood that fell from the wound was a deep dark red, not as vibrant as a player's but much more coloured than the blood of the overworld monsters. Its pain launched it into a frenzy, striking wildly at the two hunters.

The scene was filled with squeals and yells and grunts, one for each time one of either party was struck. The beast was doing surprisingly well, as what it lacked in weapons it made up for in sheer ferocity. Eventually, after too many hits from uncoordinated hooves, Bad had to fall back, groaning and clutching his stomach.

That only left the bleeding pig man and a panting Sapnap, both now able to focus all their energy on each other. The bipedal pig truly behaved like a severely wounded animal, devoting all of its energy to try and take Sapnap out. He got the feeling that even if the monster won, it would die soon anyway.

Eventually Sapnap darted around the pig, jabbing it a few times before it fully turned back to him. It pawed at the ground, snorting, before charging at him. He leapt out of the way easily, running up behind the monster and sinking his sword deep into its back. The creature tensed, giving one last high-pitched groan, before completely going limp and disappearing in a light puff of smoke, leaving nothing but a raw porkchop and a single golden nugget.

Leaning down, Sapnap picked up the loot and shoved it in his bag before walking over to where Bad was sitting and leaning against a wall, starting to wipe off the dark red blood from his sword with his undershirt. Bad gave him a weak smile as he coughed roughly.

"You did good, Pandas, you didn't even need me!"

Sapnap blushed a bit at the praise, taking a seat next to his friend. "You're the one who was getting all the hits at the start, I don't think I could have taken that thing down so fast without that. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Bad replied. "Just a few too many hits, you know?"

Sapnap hummed a simple reply, reaching into his bag and taking out a cooked porkchop they still had left, offering it to his injured friend. Bad took it gladly, murmuring a small thank you, and Sapnap waited patiently as the older hunter ate the meat.

"The things here aren't very nice, huh?" the tall brunet said once he was done eating. Sapnap nodded, turning to look out upon the vast nether landscape now that they were able to truly admire its majesty. It might be a horrible, awful place, but it was still breath-taking to look at.

Most of this biome was made of a red stony substance, it seemed, but if Sapnap strained his vision he could see brown and black materials, as well as some gravel, off in the distance. Things moved in the lava, up near the ceiling, down on the nether floor, and on various shelves branching off the walls of the nether. All the monsters and creatures milling about, combined with the perpetually moving flames burning here and there, gave the nether such a lively feeling while at the same time being so dead.

And the sounds, oh gods, the sounds. Sapnap could hear distant rumbles and booms, the wails of some mob they had yet to see, the constant burning of the fires. So many sounds, all able to send a shiver down his spine if he listened just a bit too closely.

It only contributed to the eeriness already present. To the beauty of it all.

"C'mon, let's go," Sapnap said suddenly, feeling a bit overwhelmed at everything that was going on. His thoughts were conflicting, and that was a sign that he needed to do something other than think.

"Where?" Bad asked, standing up with the other hunter. "We don't have the compass anymore."

Sapnap's heart skipped a beat as he remembered that. Finding George would be so much harder now, and as he looked around at all the passages snaking their ways into the steep walls, as well as all the land below and above them, he worried that it was a nearly impossible task.

"Sapnap?" Bad asked, his tone concerned. The younger hunter looked at his friend, realising that his blurry vision meant that there were tears gathering in his eyes. He quickly reached up and started to wipe at them with his long sleeves.

"I'm fine," he replied to a question his friend hadn't voiced yet, cursing the way his voice broke as he said those two, simple words. Bad looked at him sympathetically, sighing softly before stepping forward and wrapping him in another hug.

Sapnap felt a bit embarrassed. This was the second time in one day where Bad had felt the need to wrap him up in one of his warm hugs. Sapnap wouldn't lie and say it didn't help; it reminded him a lot of the strong but tender hugs his dad used to give him. As he thought about it, the shorter brunet buried his head deeper into the crook of his friend's neck, shutting his eyes tight as if to focus solely on the good things happening and block out everything else.

Bad gently started to pet his hair just like he had earlier that day. It felt so similar to what his mother used to do when he was crying as a little boy, Sapnap could feel himself physically melting into Bad's arms. They stayed like that a moment, Sapnap simply revelling in the feeling, before he reluctantly pulled away and offered Bad a shy smile.

"You better now?" Bad asked softly, reaching up to put a hand on Sapnap's shoulder. The younger smiled and nodded, worried that if he spoke his voice would give away how much it had helped. He felt like, in a way, his parents were back with him, pieces of them trapped in Bad and his mannerisms.

Except they weren't.

He pushed the thought out of his head, resolving to deal with it later when the heat wasn't addling his head. Snapping back into reality when Bad pulled away, he turned to watch as the other hunter walked over to where the glowing compass had landed after the pig monster threw it. Bad picked it up and started looking it over, his back to Sapnap.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Sapnap walked over to the older so he could see what was going on. When he was nearly there, Bad turned to face him, a puzzled look on his face. The hazel-eyed man looked up to lock eyes with him before handing over the compass.

Sapnap took it, looking closely. The needle wasn't spinning wildly like the old compass and was instead locked directly in front of Sapnap. He looked up to meet Bad's eyes again, silently asking a question he knew neither of them could answer.

"Do we follow it?" Bad asked quietly. Sapnap shrugged, looking back to the compass.

"I guess it's our best bet."


	20. Fireball

"So," Dream said awkwardly.

"So," George echoed from behind him, his voice worming its way into Dream's head.

They had been walking for a while, seemingly aimlessly. Dream knew vaguely what he was looking for, but he had just assumed that he would know what a fortress was when he saw one. However, he had only heard about the nether fortress, along with the charred skeletons and blazing guardians that protected it, in campfire stories told to scare him and his friends as children. It was only now that he wished that he had paid more attention to the details of the stories than he did to the mesmerising flames of the fire.

"So, how are you feeling?" Dream completed, hearing George snort quietly from behind him. 

"Feeling pretty shit. Everything around me is on fire," the hunter replied as if he were simply commenting on the weather. "I figure you like it that way though, huh?"

Dream gave a short laugh. He was better at handling the heat compared to most, and there was no denying that fire was immensely fascinating to him, but the nether's heat had forced even him to take off extra layers, his bought blue hoodie now tied around his waist. Even his mask, which he had silently vowed not to take off as long as the hunters kept chasing him, was tempting to take off as sweat continued to collect underneath it, any air out of his nose just heating the area up further. 

"I'm not having the time of my life, I'll tell you that."

George hummed a soft response and they walked on in silence for a moment before the hunter spoke again.

"So where are we going?"

"Oh gods," Dream replied, hopping down a ledge and waiting for George to make his way down as well. The hunter awkwardly made his way down, his arms still carrying Flame and unable to help. They were now nearly at the level of the lava lakes. "When are you going to stop asking that?"

"When you give me an answer, obviously," George replied, making a face at Dream. The tall blond laughed again, shaking his head.

"Why should I tell you?" 

"Maybe I can help you," the hunter suggested. Dream arched an eyebrow.

"What would you get out of that?"

"I want to get out of here," George said flatly. "Sooner you're done, the sooner you can take me back." 

Dream hummed thoughtfully, considering it. There wasn't really any point in not telling George, right? Really, the worst thing that could happen is if George got away and the other two hunters caught up, in which case he could tell them exactly what Dream was looking for. But the chances of that happening were near zero, right?

"What's that?" George said suddenly, bringing Dream to turn to the hunter and look where he was pointing.

"Huh."

Peeking over the edge of a hole in the wall was what looked to be a tuft of grass, except this wasn't the mild green of the overworld, no, this was an in-your-face cyan colour. Dream was immediately interested, walking over to the wall and starting to climb up to get a better look.

"Hey, what are you doing?" George yelled over. Dream rolled his eyes and turned his head, yelling back, "I'm just taking a look!"

Dream pulled himself up the wall completely, ignoring the way that the hunter was looking around nervously. For a moment he almost couldn't believe his eyes, or that he was in the same world anymore. But when he stood and started walking closer, he knew that the blue-green forest in front of him was real. 

"What's up there?"

George's voice was fainter than before and Dream found that he had subconsciously walked farther into the serene forest. It was cooler here, as there weren't as many fires burning on the grass. As he walked back towards where he had left George and Flame, he noticed how the ground gave way under his feet in an almost sponge-like way. It was strange, going from the burning red caverns into this cool forest, but it was a much-needed change. 

"Come on up," Dream called down when he found himself on the edge of the short cliff he had climbed up. George gave him an exasperated look, adjusting his hold on Flame so he could dramatically gesture at the small cat. Flame stared up at Dream, giving a small mew that he could barely hear. 

"Just let them down, they'll climb up," Dream replied to George's non-verbal communication. The hunter obliged, gently setting the patchy cat down on the ground. Calling to Flame, Dream stared into their heterochromatic eyes as they looked up interest, beckoning them towards him.

Flame seemed to get the message, as they started towards the wall and started jumping from perch to perch easily, eventually hopping up right next to Dream. Praising and petting the small cat, Dream looked to George and nodded for the hunter to come up as well. The brunet looked at the wall doubtfully, stepping up to the wall with an uncertainty that had Dream a bit nervous.

"Do you know how to climb up?" the blond shouted down, looking over the edge so he could catch the hunter's reaction. George scoffed, but when he looked up Dream could see the anxiety resting in his brown eyes. 

"It's not going to be too bad, just take it one hand and foot at a time, okay?"

George mumbled something Dream didn't quite catch, but from the sound of it the hunter had probably said, "easy for you to say."

"Do you want me to come down and help you?" the hunted called down, watching with mild amusement as George hesitantly found his first foothold. The hunter froze for a moment, as if he was considering it, before he refused the offer. 

"I'll come down and carry you up if you hurt yourself," Dream shouted down one last time, his tone both assuring and joking. He watched as George climbed up the cliff at an almost painfully slow pace, carefully picking every hold he put his weight on. 

When he grabbed onto the cliff edge, George desperately started trying to pull himself up. When Dream heard pebbles being kicked off the cliff's face and hitting the ground below he shot up, grabbing onto George's arms and dragging him forward. The other man winced at the feeling of his arms being pulled so suddenly, but he gave Dream a weak nod when he found himself properly up on the new level. 

"Do they not test you for climbing when you're trying to be a hunter?" Dream asked playfully. George shrugged awkwardly, rubbing his arms before standing up. 

"I almost failed those tests," George admitted. Dream gave a short laugh. The hunter wrinkled his nose and gave Dream a playful punch. 

"You're not a very good hunter anyway."

George seemed a bit offended, his whole face scrunching up before he asked, "Is that a good thing?"

It was Dream's turn to shrug, waiting patiently as George scooped Flame up again and they started walking through the significantly cooler forest. 

"If you want to be a hunter, it's a bad thing," Dream finally replied, catching George's attention from where it had been fixated on the spongy grass under their feet. "But for me, it's pretty great. I'm still alive and free."

"Yeah, for now," George muttered, his tone more solemn than Dream had expected. The blond decided to ignore it, instead peering up at the shroom-looking lights hidden in the trees. But now that he was looking closer, he wasn't sure if he could exactly call them trees. They had the general shape of a tree, but where there should have been leaves was a strange fungus growth in shades of cyan and green, and what could have been a normal tree trunk was covered in pumping cyan vines. 

Everything felt alive, just in a very warped and uncomfortable way.

"What is this stuff?" Dream asked, noticing the notes of awe in his voice. George clearly noticed it too and stopped next to the blond, looking towards Dream with slight amusement. 

"I'm not entirely sure," George replied. "A biome like this wasn't mentioned in the books we had, but they were fairly old. I only really know about the nether wastes and things like the nether fortresses." 

"The nether fortresses?" Dream questioned as they started walking again, faking ignorance. He had to turn his head to see George nod. 

"Yeah, they were built by an old society of people who came to live here," George explained. "However, they fucked something up with the piglin king, a trade deal I think it was, and they were all burned alive in their own fortresses."

"Wow. That must have sucked."

George hummed. "Yeah. But the nether's kinda weird, sometimes things stay alive when they should be dead. So now there are burnt skeletons guarding the fortresses, along with the blazes."

"What about the blazes, then?" 

"No one really knows," George answered shortly. "Some people guess that they're the burning souls of the people who died in the fortresses but couldn't come back physically. Some people think that they were just placed there by the piglins. We can't exactly do tests, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that," Dream replied, biting his cheek as he thought. George gave a short nod and they continued walking through the warped forest, the hunter giving a few absentminded pets to Flame as he sank into his thoughts as well. 

As they continued on wearily, the novelty of the cyan and magenta forest started to wear off on Dream. The temperature change was welcome, but the colours were starting to irritate him with how out of place they felt, and he found himself hearing sighs and wails with origins that he couldn't pinpoint in the cramped surroundings. He also had the eerie feeling that the fungus of the trees were reaching towards him, pulling away just enough so he wouldn't notice anything off when he actually looked.

"Oh fuck," George said as the forest opened up. Dream didn't understand his complaint at first, only relieved to be out of such a cramped environment, but then he saw the dark red brick structure across the massive lava lake below them.

"Shit, how are we going to get over there?" he muttered, only realising that he had voiced his thoughts when George gave him a horrified look.

"Are you joking? That's a nether fortress."

"Yeah, that's good, right?" Dream replied, his tone slightly questioning. George shook his head in disbelief. 

"You're more of an idiot than I thought," George noted, ignoring Dream's slight protest before continuing, "Didn't you hear what I said? Burning souls. Burnt skeletons. Do you want me to tell you about the wither effect?"

"Nah, I'm good."

George was about to reply with something, probably something that was overly sarcastic, but he was cut off by a loud wail behind the hunted. Dream only saw George's eyes widen in terror as he clutched Flame closer to his chest before he turned and saw the pale monster floating easily across the lava lake. Its eyes were a dark red, almost the colour of player blood but not quite. Tears with an almost oily consistency dripped down into the lava below the flying mob, tears which Dream assumed were the cause of the monster's irritated eyes.

Dream froze, gripping his sword tight as he stared at the creature. He had never seen anything like this before, but based on George's soft but frantic mumbles behind him he guessed the other man knew what this was. 

"What is this?" he hissed, hoping he was loud enough for George to hear him. It was doubtful that the creature would hear him from this distance but it wasn't worth risking their lives to find out.

"It's a ghast," George answered quietly, and as Dream watched the monster opened its mouth and let out one of the wails he had heard echoing through the forest. It was horrifying to hear in the open, almost loud enough to make him want to fall to his knees and cover his ears. 

"It shoots fireballs," George hissed, making Dream gulp involuntarily. It was one thing to deal with a mob that could just fly away to heal before returning and continuing an attack, but one that flew _and_ shot fireballs? That was a fight that Dream wanted absolutely no place in. 

He didn't have much of a choice, though, as the ghast glanced over and locked its eyes on the nether's intruders. George swore behind him and, from the sound of his voice, it sounded like he had retreated back into the warped forest. Instead of retreating as well, Dream stood his ground, clutching his sword with both hands like it was some sort of lifeline.

"Dream, you idiot!" George yelled behind him. "Now is not the time to try and be a hero!"

 _'But why not?'_ Dream asked, gritting his teeth as the monster drifted closer, its long and uneven tendrils trailing behind it. Its mouth opened wide, revealing a pitch-black chasm where a fiery ball started to collect. 

With a loud screech, the ghast shot the blazing ball right at Dream, the fireball moving at a pace much quicker than the ghast's serene and relaxed movement. Dream leapt out of the way, eyebrows shooting up as the fireball blasted a hole in the spongy grass where he had been standing. George was yelling something again but Dream paid him no mind as the ghast started gathering another fireball. 

This time he stood fast as the fiery blast came rushing towards him, bringing up his sword and swinging it at the ball with hopes of either sending it back or breaking it apart. He smiled tightly when he timed it correctly and hit it off across the lava, although it was too low to hit the ghast and instead blasted a hole in the cliff on the other side.

For the next fireball, however, he wasn't nearly as prepared. By the time he had noticed it, Dream was only able to jump back a little and the explosion threw him back further. He choked on something after his back hit a rock, hard. As he got to his feet, slightly dazed, the liquid collecting in his mouth dripped over his lips. When he wiped at his mouth he saw the vibrant red of his own blood, causing him to hurriedly dry off his hand on his jeans. 

The ghast shot another fireball which, however weakly, he was prepared for. Lifting his sword over his head, he brought it down to hit the fireball squarely in the middle and send it back. To his slight disbelief, it hit the ghast perfectly, making it wail in pain. 

There was a moment for the two opponents to recover before the ghast gathered enough energy to shoot another fireball at the masked man. Dream, completely ready to end this fight, hit the blazing ball with all his might, propelling it back towards the pale ghast. The slow-moving creature barely had time to react before the fireball pummelled into its face, releasing an ear-piercing shriek that cut off when the giant beast turned into nothing more than a puff of smoke, with only a single tear lasting long enough to drop into the lava below.

Dream stood there, panting and wheezing softly as blood slowly dripped from his mouth. He heard footsteps behind him and hung his head tiredly. 

"Dream," he heard a soft voice say, a hand making its way onto his shoulder. A small, concerned-sounding meow came after it, bringing Dream to lift his head. His eyes met George's through the mask, and he saw the worry partially hidden in his eyes. He gave the man a small smile, but that only made him cough harder. George's face tightened into a frown as more blood dripped from Dream's mouth. 

"You did good, Dream," George said gently, handing him Flame. The small cat cuddled into Dream's chest and he did his best not to drip any blood onto their fur, deciding to hoist them up onto his shoulder. George moved sideways to his other shoulder and started moving him forward. 

"We need to get you somewhere safe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I launched a oneshot book today, so check that out if you're interested/want to make a request!


	21. Sword

George was not having a good time. 

He wasn't entirely sure where they were going, but he gently pressed Dream forward as they retreated further back into the warped, cyan forest. Even as he walked, the hunter kept shooting glances behind them, hoping to see a monster coming towards them long before it attacked.

Dream was really out of it, not paying much attention to the blood dribbling out of his mouth and obeying even the slightest shift of George's hand easily. The blood flow wasn't as strong anymore, but it was lasting long enough to make George concerned. 

Not that he should care much, this was still Dream after all. 

Flame mewed suddenly and he looked towards where they were perched on Dream's shoulder, captivated by their yellow and blue eyes. He had become fairly attached to Flame, and he knew that he'd miss them when he had to leave Dream. They seemed more intelligent than he'd expect from a cat, and a question hung in their eyes that they couldn't articulate vocally. 

"Flame, it's okay," he whispered, moving his hand up slightly to give them a little scratch under the ears. They seemed partially content with this answer, meowing quietly before turning to face forward again, and George moved his hand back down to the middle of Dream's back.

"George?" Dream asked, the word dropping in the still air. The hunter cringed a bit at how choked Dream sounded, wondering how much blood was still in the other's mouth.

"Yeah?"

"Where are we going?"

"Um," George said awkwardly, unsure of how to answer. "I'm trying to take us somewhere safe."

"Please don't take us too far away from the fortress," Dream requested after a moment's pause, his words sounding hesitant and shy. George felt a bit taken aback by both the ask and Dream's uncharacteristically timid tone. 

"Wait, why?" he questioned, his gaze boring into the side of Dream's head. The man must have felt it somehow, as he twitched uncomfortably.

Dream mumbled something, but he might as well have said nothing as George would have understood it the same either way. George was going ask him to repeat himself when he spotted a small cave, almost completely hidden by the overhanging fungus of one of the awkward trees. 

George turned the two of them abruptly, focused on getting them to the hole in the wall. Not that there seemed to be much danger; even though this forest twitched with life it seemed as if no mobs actually called this place home. Dream followed his movements obediently, even though he seemed to be unsure of where George was leading them.

"Get in there," the hunter commanded gently, earning a weary nod from Dream before he ducked under the fungus and slipped into the cave. George took a quick glance around, just in case, before following him. 

"Do you have a torch?" George asked as he stood in the dimly lit cave, squinting so he could see Dream and Flame better. Dream had already taken a seat, setting down his bag and sword before allowing Flame to jump off his shoulder onto the ground, their eyes reflecting whatever light was able to shine into the cave. The blond gave an awful sounding cough before reaching into his satchel, fishing out an extinguished torch and tossing it to George weakly. 

"Alright," the hunter said as he struck the torch against the netherrack wall, lighting up the whole cave warmly. After sticking it into the wall he turned to Dream, who was dripping blood onto his dark green shirt but didn't seem to care. 

"Hey, Dream?" he whispered as he sat next to the taller man. Dream didn't turn to look at him, instead nodding heavily and dripping even more blood onto his dark shirt. 

"Do you have some water somewhere?" George asked. "You need to eat something, and I don't want you to choke."

"My bag," Dream mumbled, finally reaching up to wipe lazily at his mouth. George nodded and fumbled around in Dream's satchel before finally picking out a warm, covered bucket, hearing the sloshing of liquid inside. He opened it up and brought it to Dream's lips, tilting it so the water could flow into Dream's mouth.

"Fuck!" Dream swore as he doubled over, coughing blood and water all over his sweatpants and the floor. George fell backwards in surprise, throwing the water bucket to the ground where all the water spilled out onto the ground. The hunter watched in dismay as it seeped into cracks in the netherrack, turning into steam in the hot floor. 

"That's fucking hot!"

George snapped back to look at Dream, getting onto his knees and patting the other man on the back as he continued to cough. Eventually the coughs tapered off and Dream gave him a weak thumbs up before sitting back and dropping his head against the wall behind him. 

"Can you eat something now?" George asked awkwardly. The hunted nodded, letting his mouth hang open lazily where George could see his blood-stained teeth. The hunter tore his eyes from the sight and opened his satchel, clumsily grabbing a loaf of bread and handing it to Dream. Reaching up to grab it, Dream started to eat it, chewing slowly. 

"I'm good," George assured after Dream broke off a piece and offered him a piece. The blond shrugged, popping the piece into his mouth and chewing it with more vigour than before. George watched silently, pulling his legs up to his chest and leaning back against the wall adjacent to Dream's.

"Thanks," Dream said after finishing off the whole loaf of bread. George nodded tiredly. Dream coughed again, only a bit of blood dripping down his chin this time. The hunter frowned at it and the taller sighed before reaching to dab at his blood again, wiping off whatever he could onto his sweatpants. 

The two men sat in silence, the flickering torchlight casting slow-dancing shadows onto the walls. Flame gave a small yawn and curled up next to Dream, purring softly. George watched them with mild curiosity, vaguely becoming aware of Dream falling asleep as well. 

Sighing, George took off his satchel and set it on the ground, sneaking a glance to make sure the other man was still sound asleep. When Dream's steady breathing didn't hitch, George got up quietly and tip-toed out of the cave. 

He wasn't running away from the two, no, he simply wanted a moment to clear his head. He spotted one of the vertical vines he had seen dotted around the forest. They seemed to be the same type as the ones pumping on the tree trunks, except these were intertwining together and spiralling up with no support. Stepping up to the reaching vines, a bit sceptical as to whether or not he'd actually be able to climb up it, he pushed against it. 

It held fast and he carefully started to climb up, thankful for the sturdy holds he could grab and step onto. When he was near the top he found himself at the level of the top of a tree, which he awkwardly hopped to. The fungus underneath him was even spongier than the ground below, allowing his feet sink into it so far that for a brief moment he thought he'd fall through. When he didn't, he walked towards the middle of the treetop, grimacing at the disgusting noise the fungus made when he stepped out of it.

Sitting down in the middle of the fungus leaves and sinking down into it only slightly, he stared out at the cyan forest. It reached out as far as he could see in every direction except directly behind him, where the wall housing their cave was, and he wondered for a brief moment how far he and Dream had really walked. 

Dream. Now there was a character, huh?

 _'You care about him, don't you?'_ a voice in his head hissed. He frowned, shaking his head gently. No, he didn't care about Dream. George was still well aware of the awful things the masked man had done: arson, robbery, treason to the entire overworld (at the very least, he had done the two former). 

But still, he found himself liking the other's company. And maybe that was just because he was essentially stuck with Dream in a realm neither of them were familiar with, but it still counted for something. He found himself noticing little quirks from his two hunter friends in Dream: he tightened his grip on his sword in a fight just like Bad did, his lips twisted into frowns just like Sapnap's did (and he was nearly as moody as the hunter, too), and so on. It was bizarre, but George found himself drawn to it all the same.

But what would happen when his friends found him again? He would have to leave Flame and Dream, of course. The more he thought about it, though, the less certain George became that he would be able to hunt Dream with the other two. Dream was a criminal, there was no doubt about it, and for that he had to be punished. George knew this. So what was he afraid of?

George hung his head, taking a deep breath. His fear was probably selfish: he didn't want Dream to identify him and accuse him of being an accomplice, turning his friends against him. But there was something else, gnawing at the base of his chest, that just wouldn't leave him alone. He alone had seen another side of Dream, a more human side. Maybe he just needed to make the other side go away.

Maybe then everything would be alright.

The hunter got up, determined. He slid down the twisting vines easily, dropping to the ground lightly at the bottom. Marching towards the cave again, he slipped under the fungus cover and stared down at the other man in the room.

Dream was still sleeping, the torchlight flickering his facial features in and out of the shadows. His mouth was hanging slightly open but no sound came out. George grimaced before kneeling down and grabbing Dream's sword from where it was lying next to his pack.

The blond tensed when George put the cool metal against his neck, a small sound of surprise escaping his mouth before he shut it. Even though George couldn't see the other's eyes, he knew that Dream was looking at him when the masked man tilted his head up a little. 

"George, what...?" Dream questioned softly, his breaths short as he tried not to press his neck against the sword. George felt his head spinning, exceedingly anxious, and only becoming more nervous when Dream's arms twitched up a bit before the other chose to keep them down. The hunter was keenly aware that Dream could easily take control back in this situation.

But he didn't.

"Did you set the ender people into the villages?"

It was a weird question and one that George wasn't entirely sure if he wanted the answer to. He had simply asked it to gain some time as he desperately struggled for some stability. Dream shifted under him, shaking his head once.

"No," the other replied simply. The brunet bit his lip and the blond under him shifted again hesitantly, the breaths falling quicker from his mouth. "Is that all?"

"What do you want with the fortress?" George pressed on, internally cringing when his voice broke about halfway through the simple question. Dream exhaled hard, seemingly not wanting to answer the question. 

"Why do you ask?" 

"I'm asking the questions, Dream," George replied sternly, and even though he had a sword pressed up to his neck Dream chuckled. 

"Fair," the other replied in amusement and George found himself relaxing a bit with Dream's easy tone. "I want to fight some blazes. I've heard they have something I need."

George's left eyebrow arched with questioning, "What, a blaze rod?"

Dream hummed shortly, "I think that's it."

"Are you going to be doing some brewing?" George asked, now genuinely curious. Dream's mouth twisted and he paused for a moment.

"No. Or at least, that's less important."

"Hm," George hummed, sitting back a bit to think but making sure that the blade remained firmly held against Dream's neck. A small hiss escaped Dream's mouth.

"That hurts."

"Oh, sorry," George apologised, pulling himself up to sit further up on Dream's legs. Dream gave him a weak but cheeky smile. 

"Why are you sitting on me anyway?" Dream questioned dryly before grinning. "Weirdo."

George felt his face flush but thankfully his body did not move awkwardly as well, "it's easier to threaten you here."

"Oh wow, I'm so scared," Dream said sarcastically, grinning again when George rolled his eyes. 

"You're so stupid," George retorted childishly. "Are you going to The End or something?"

Dream froze. 

"You are," the hunter remarked, involuntarily pressing the blade harder against the other man's neck as he leaned closer. "Why? Are you going to get more endermen?"

"I told you, I didn't do that!" Dream protested, doing his best to squirm under George's weight and the blade pressed against his neck.

"I don't believe you," George replied coldly. 

"Why not?" Dream asked. His tone was uncharacteristically shy again and George hated it.

"Why would I?" he countered. The blond sighed but said nothing.

"So why would you be going to the end?"

"That's none of your business," Dream spat coldly. Even though he tried not to, George couldn't help but feel a little hurt.

"Well now I'm just going to assume that you are going to gather more ender people."

"You already assumed that."

"Dream," George said tiredly. "Please work with me."

"George," Dream mocked. "Please take the sword away from my neck."

"Take off your mask," George commanded. The other man froze beneath him again and everything went quiet, the only noise remaining in the cave being Flame's soft snores from where they were sleeping right next to the bristly duo.

"I won't."

"Why not?" George asked quietly. Dream hesitated. 

"I just don't want to."

"You've done a lot of things I didn't want you to," George replied, raising an eyebrow as he waited for the other to reply. 

Dream sighed, "You got me there."

"Are you going to take it off then?"

"No," Dream answered, his mouth twisted into an unhappy grimace. 

"Okay then," George continued, deciding to leave this topic for now. "What's your real name, then?"

"Why would you want to know that?" Dream asked, a tone of surprise painting his voice. George shrugged awkwardly. 

"Just want to know, I guess."

"Oh," Dream said. The blond paused before continuing, "It's Clay."

"Clay?" 

"Yeah."

"Funny name," George commented, which made Dream wheeze and lean forward almost dangerously into the blade at his neck.

"And that's why I don't tell people," the hunted joked. "Now can you take your sword away?"

"Just one second, _Clay_." The name felt funny on his tongue but he revelled in the way Dream twitched uncomfortably beneath him.

"Don't call me that," Dream said awkwardly. George snorted.

"I think I can do whatever I want right now," the hunter replied, earning an upset but resigned frown from the other. "Anyway, I'll fight the blazes with you."

"Really?" the other asked curiously. "Why?"

"Means I can get out of here faster," George answered flatly, although he wasn't sure if that was the whole truth. "So I'll help you, but under one condition: you have to give me back to my friends at the end of it. "

"'Give you back'? So, what, you want me to make it look like you didn't do anything?" Dream asked, amused. "Tie you up and all that?"

"Yeah."

Dream laughed lowly, "George, are you afraid that they'll think you're with me now?"

"No," George lied. It looked like Dream saw through it though, as a smile played on his lips as he thought. 

"Alright, fine," Dream said at length. "I'll play along with your trickery, Georgie."

"Don't call me that," George replied shortly, standing up and dropping Dream's sword back onto his pack. 

"You bastard! Using my own sword against me!" Dream exclaimed dramatically, grinning up at George as the shorter rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "And I think I'm allowed one 'Georgie'. It's only fair."

"Alright, _Clay_ ," George replied, stressing the name. Dream shook his head and laughed.

"Well now I have one more," the blond said, reaching over and petting Flame. They woke up, blinking tiredly at Dream. "Wow, Flame slept through you threatening me. They'd make a terrible guard dog. Wouldn't you, Flame?"

"I think one of the requirements for that is being a dog, Dream," George replied dryly, a gentle smile on his face contradicting his tone as Flame mewed at the taller man. Dream shrugged.

"I'm sure it could work."


	22. Fortress

The warped forest was quiet, the life twitching inside unassertive and passive. From the distance came echoes of caves collapsing and the mournful wails of ghasts forced to float endlessly, unable to do anything about it but cry. Deep in the forest was a small cave digging into the wall, inside our weary adventurers preparing for a hard and fiery fight.

"What are we going to do with you?" George murmured, scratching Flame under the ear after they had padded over to him. Dream looked up from the new helmet he was crafting, his mouth twisting as he thought.

"I'm sure we could sit Flame down somewhere safe inside the fortress. Better than leaving them outside or bringing them too close," he replied quietly, returning back to the task of forming the helmet. The iron was from George but Dream was the one crafting, mostly because his experienced fingers spun the metal into armour much quicker than George's did. "They're fairly obedient."

"Maybe Flame could be a guard dog," the brunet said thoughtfully, running his hand down Flame parallel to their spine and making them arch up in delight. Dream snorted, holding up the completed helmet and gently smoothing out any imperfections. Finally satisfied, he lifted the helmet from the crafting table and felt it solidify in his hands.

"You done?" George asked.

"Yeah, thanks for all your help," Dream said sarcastically, tossing the completed helmet to George. The brunet gave a quick huff of surprise before sticking his tongue out at the other man, earning a hard wheeze from the blond.

"You're so stupid," the hunted declared fondly, shaking his head as he chuckled. George giggled, "No, you're stupid."

Dream rolled his eyes, not like George could see, and shook his head again, "alright, let's get into our armour."

The hunter nodded, getting up and walking over to the chestplate that Dream had also prepared for him. It fit George snugly but still allowed a good range of movement. Perfect for fighting.

Looking towards the armour he had prepared for himself, Dream paused for a moment. Now that he was thinking about it, he wasn't sure if the chestplate would fit over his face when his mask was on. He glanced at George, who was adjusting the sleeves of his blue shirt so it kept the iron from digging into his skin, and decided to give it a shot before taking his mask off.

Unfortunately, it didn't fit. With an almost inaudible groan, Dream set the armour back down on the ground, reaching instead for the iron leggings he had also made and pulling them over his pants. When he did, he realised just how hot it was going to get in the armour; his sweatpants were fairly flexible and thin to accommodate his frequent activity, but with the iron leggings on Dream could already feel himself starting to sweat.

"Jesus, this is hot," George complained, echoing Dream's thoughts. When the dirty blond looked over he saw the other pulling at his shirt collar in annoyance, frowning.

"It's not for too long," Dream reminded, "Just so we can get enough blaze sticks."

"Blaze rods," George corrected absentmindedly, kneeling down to tie his shoe.

"Right."

George stood up and looked towards Dream, a look of mild confusion passing over his face when he saw that Dream was still underdressed.

"Do you need help putting on your armour or something?" he asked, voice dripping with amusement. Dream laughed awkwardly, shaking his head.

"No, just," he paused, "could you turn around?"

"You're allowed to wear more than just the armour, Dream," George replied dryly, eyebrows arched.

"Dude, I'm going to keep my clothes on," the taller said, lips twisting up into a teasing grin. "Don't get too excited."

George spluttered, face flushing at the implication, and Dream wheezed again. Bending over in laughter, Dream raised a hand as he struggled to catch his breath.

"I'm joking, I'm joking."

"I'm well aware," the shorter man replied curtly, a soft smile tugging on his lips as Dream finished his laughing fit and straightened up.

"Okay but, if you could turn around, that'd be great."

"Why?" George questioned again. "I'll do it, I just want to know why."

Dream tapped his mask, the sound only half hollow, "chestplate doesn't fit over this."

George's mouth pulled into a small 'o' and he nodded before turning around, "while I'm looking away you might want to change your shirt. That blood is not going to be comfortable to fight against."

Dream looked down, pulling his shirt so he could look at it. He hadn't really noticed it before given how baggy the shirt was but George was right. Blood was absolutely caking the shirt, it just wasn't very noticeable on the dark green.

Turning away from George just in case, Dream unlatched his mask and carefully pulled it off, wincing at how his sweat helped the mask cling to his skin. He gasped at the fresher air around him, the relief from the stuffy mask's hold overwhelming him.

"You okay?" George asked from the other side of the room, voice spiked with worry. Dream laughed quietly, nodding even though the other man couldn't see.

"Yeah," he replied, surprising even himself with how cheerful he sounded. "Just good to be alive sometimes."

"Ah," George remarked softly. Dream could hear the smile in his voice, even though there was a tinge of melancholy as well.

He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it onto his bag, reaching down and grabbing the blue hoodie he had dropped onto it as well. Right before he was about to put it on he paused, massaging the material. It was extremely thick and, while he'd be able to wear it on its own, he was certain that with a chestplate on top the heat would become unbearable.

"Hey, um," he started awkwardly, receiving a small hum from the brunet. "Do you still have my hoodie?"

"The ye-green one?" George clarified, stumbling over his words for a reason Dream didn't fully understand. "Yeah, I do."

"Can you toss it over?"

"Yeah, sure," the other replied, following his words with a brief rummaging of his bag. "You can turn around, I won't look."

"Oh," Dream said quietly. "Thank you."

The blond turned around, still cautious that George was lying, but all he saw was the man holding his hoodie out in Dream's general direction, arm over his eyes so he couldn't see anything. Dream smiled to himself, taking the hoodie and turning back around to pull it on.

"Alright, you're good," he assured after he had pulled the green hoodie again. It was definitely much lighter and held a lot less heat than the blue one, but as he was adjusting it he noticed the blood dried into the sleeve just above the elbow.

"Oh, how's your arrow wound doing?" he asked casually, rolling up his sleeves so he'd be more comfortable in the hard armour and the dried blood wouldn't chafe at his skin.

"It's doing pretty well," George answered. When he heard the rustling of fabric behind him, Dream assumed that the other man was looking at said injury. "Just a bit of scarring."

"It healed pretty fast," Dream commented, reaching down and picking up his chestplate. It really wasn't out of the ordinary for injuries to heal this quickly, if they were something simple like an arrow wound, as long as the injured got plenty of food and rest.

"I've been eating enough to keep it going," George replied, receiving a gentle hum from Dream as the dirty blond adjusted his chestplate. "It could have healed faster, since Bad got a potion."

"BadBoyHalo?" Dream questioned. He could tell that George was rambling a bit now, but he didn't really mind.

"Yeah," George confirmed. "He found a health potion and gave it to Sapnap."

"Yeah?"

George hummed, "yeah, Sapnap got hit by a creeper explosion. I think he still has some scarring from it, I'm not sure."

The brunet sighed and Dream paused in his adjustment to provide George with any quiet he needed, "I haven't seen him in a while, obviously."

Dream stayed quiet, unsure of what to say. He finished with his chestplate and grabbed his mask, wiping the inside with the hoodie fabric sticking out the bottom of his chestplate to try and get rid of some of the sweat inside. Lifting it to his face, he took one last deep breath before pulling it on, latching it in place at the side.

"You can turn around now, if you want to," he said quietly. George hummed again and a mew came from the other side of the room. When Dream turned around, George was cradling Flame, petting them on the head lightly with a thoughtful look on his face.

"You alright?" Dream asked, crowning himself with the broken iron helmet he already had. George nodded absentmindedly.

"Just thinking."

"You want to get back to the other hunters soon, don't you?"

George looked up, seemingly disappointed but also a bit relieved that Dream was once again masked. He shrugged, "I mean, yeah. They're my friends, I want to see them again."

"Awh, aren't we friends, Georgie?" Dream jokingly pouted, breaking into a grin when George laughed shortly. Packing up the workbench, Dream took one last scan of the cave before walking towards the entrance, pushing aside the fungus and stepping outside.

"Don't call me Georgie," George replied dryly, following close behind.

"Come on George, let me have some fun! Pretty soon you'll be gone from me forever. Until you come back to kill me or capture me, of course."

George stayed quiet and Dream knew that he had stepped a little too far. He looked behind him, confirming that George, still carrying Flame, was following.

"Hey, George," he said quietly, walking over and placing a hand on the other's shoulder. George twitched but did not flinch away completely. "I get you have a job to do, and I'm okay with it. I'm just joking, okay?"

George nodded slowly, looking up at Dream with slightly narrowed eyes.

"Don't worry, the faster I have my blaze sticks, the sooner I can get you back to your friends and we can all get out of here," Dream took a step away from George, running his hand through dirty blond hair. "Who knows, maybe everything will be okay."

George smiled wryly, "blaze rods."

"Of course," Dream agreed, smiling gently at the other man. George gave him a smile back, this one seeming genuine, before pushing past him back in the direction of the fortress. Flame peeked over George's shoulder, meowing at Dream. The blond smiled to himself, shaking his head gently at the ground, before walking after the hunter.

It wasn't long before they came across the fortress again, as George hadn't led them too far away, but now came the task of getting into the dark brick building. Dream stepped into the leave again, leading the two of them across a natural bridge going over the lava that they crossed cautiously, wary of any ghasts that could be nearby.

"Okay, Dream," George suddenly said. Dream halted, turning and looking towards the other man, who was looking at the nearing structure. "We need to get in and out as fast as possible. This is not a safe place."

Dream merely nodded in reply, turning back to the fortress and walking closer, spotting a fenced window and heading towards it.

"I never expected it to be this big," George whispered, most likely to himself. Grabbing his diamond pick from his belt, Dream glanced at George and noticed that he was clutching Flame much tighter than before. The small cat also seemed to be disturbed, as their fur stood up and they kept warily glancing around.

"We got this, George," the dirty blond assured as he struck the dark brick fences. It wasn't long before he had disconnected them from the wall, removing them so he could step in through the gap.

It wasn't entirely clear from the outside but when Dream stood inside he found himself in a long tunnel, one end seeming to lead to an intersection of tunnels while the other ended with a staircase to a higher level.

The striking of sneakers on the brick floor told him that George had hopped in as well. He turned and saw that was indeed the case, the brunet looking up and down the long hall with a mixture of fear and mild interest.

"We're probably the first people down here in decades," George murmured in wonder, looking towards Dream.

"Huh," the dirty blond replied, starting to walk towards the staircase. "We probably are."

George snorted, "wow, don't get too excited."

Dream gave a short laugh, turning to see that George was following him, still cradling Flame. The taller waited for the other, falling into step beside him as they walked down the dim hall. 

"It's interesting, but not exciting," the dirty blond elaborated, earning a small hum from the brunet. "Besides, who knows how much has changed since then. Maybe it's a bad thing."

"Maybe," George conceded. "It's so quiet here."

"It is," Dream agreed, glancing behind them quickly. The staircase was nearing them with every step they took.

"It feels odd, doesn't it?"

"Yes."

They had arrived at the staircase but George paused, looking with interest at something to the side.

"No way," the brunet said excitedly, stepping closer. "Nether wart! I'm surprised it's still growing here."

Looking towards the other with curiosity, Dream watched him shift Flame to his right before grabbing at something with his left. George tugged at it, probably not expecting such resistance, before he pulled out what looked like a bulbous red plant accompanied by a sound Dream could only describe as someone screaming in pain, but in a whisper.

"Soul sand," George stated with an air of casualness Dream did not expect. The taller swallowed before stepping closer to the hunter, who was looking at the nether wart with great interest. 

"So uh," Dream started before pointing at what he presumed George must have pulled the plant out of. It was a mix of browns and looked grainy, but the longer Dream stared at it he could swear that he could see faces contorted in pain and despair swimming in and out.

He decided not to look.

"That's soul sand?"

"Yep," George replied, "this stuff grows in it. Kinda spooky, huh?"

Dream kicked his foot out, tapping the sand experimentally. Even though it was a brief touch, he could feel what seemed to be the sand tugging him down, clinging to his sneakers even as he pulled away. Looking at George with bewilderment, his lips parted with a question he wasn't sure how to articulate.

"What happened?" the hunter asked, cocking his head to the side. Even though his tone was innocent, Dream could see the sparkles of amusement in his eyes. Almost stupidly, Dream pointed at the soul sand again.

"The fuck?"

"Did it grab at you?" George questioned. Dream nodded and the brunet hummed softly. "Yeah, soul sand slows you down. Must be the souls grabbing at you and trying to drag you down with them. I'm no expert, though."

"Can you sink into it?" Dream asked, receiving a shake of the head in reply.

"No," George stated before hesitating. "Well, maybe. Only if you stand on it for too long. People haven't done too many experiments on it, duh."

Dream hummed a reply, his lips drawn tight. He stayed still for a moment, watching the silent screams appearing and disappearing in the sand. After the moment had passed, he looked up at George and gave a curt nod.

"Alright, time to go. We need to find the blazes."

"Just one second," George replied, kneeling down and tugging out some more nether wart. "This stuff could be useful."

"What would you use it for?" Dream asked, confused. As he watched, George also grabbed a handful of soul sand and shoved it into a small compartment on the outside of his satchel.

"Potions," George replied simply, straightening up and walking back over. "Might as well give it a shot, right?"

Dream laughed, "you're turning into a regular criminal yourself, Georgie. You know that nether stuff is illegal in the overworld, right?"

George frowned, starting up the staircase and letting his voice drift down to Dream, "don't call me Georgie."

"Of course," Dream replied, grinning. "Georgie."

Even though he had said the nickname under his breath, Dream still elicited a "hey!" from the other man, causing him to chuckle as he followed George. When he reached the top of the staircase he found George waiting patiently, still clutching Flame. 

"Do you hear that?" the hunter asked quietly, glancing around the halls that the staircase had led up to. Dream paused, holding his breath and listening. It wasn't very loud, but he could hear fiery groans and crackles somewhere nearby.

"Let's sit them down here," he said firmly, nodding to Flame. George set them down on the sill of one of the fenced windows, giving them a soft pet before pulling away.

"Hey, Flame," Dream said gently, walking up to the cat and giving them a little scratch on the head, "You're gonna have to stay here for a little while, okay? So be a good little kitty and sit."

Flame gave a small mew before sitting, tucking their paws close together and rubbing their cheek against Dream's hand. The hunted smiled softly before patting the cat on the head, murmuring gentle praises before turning back to the other man in the hall, pulling his sword from his belt.

"Alright, let's do this."


	23. Hoglin

Bad glanced at the compass once again, just to make sure they were going in the correct direction. To be fair, he wasn't entirely sure whether this was the right direction at all if they were trying to find Dream and George, but it was better than mindlessly wandering the wasteland that was the nether.

"Jesus, how far could they have gone?" Sapnap asked. The older man shrugged, clipping the compass to his belt and shifting his focus to the environment around them. So far, they had accosted by only one mob, but others were almost always in sight. The most common were the zombified, bipedal pig people, who seemed to be peaceful as they didn't give the hunters even a harsh look. Across the lava lakes that Bad and Sapnap had walked uncomfortably close to they could see large floating white mobs, which had thankfully not noticed the two wanderers and let them be. They were safe.

For now, of course.

"Woah, Bad, look!" 

The brunet followed Sapnap's directions, looking towards where he was pointing and seeing the brown biome they had seen earlier. It wasn't the exact same one, as the compass had led them away from it, but apparently they had stumbled across yet another.

"Huh," Bad remarked shortly, reaching to consult his compass again. Sapnap stepped closer to look as well and the two men saw that the needle was pointing straight ahead, leading them into the new biome.

"Let's go!" Sapnap exclaimed eagerly, punching the air. "I'm so sick of this red shit."

"Language," Bad scolded, following his friend with significantly less eagerness. He didn't trust this new landscape; the muted colours were much nicer than the bland but intrusive reds of the old biome, but there was something wrong here. Of course, he couldn't say exactly what, but as things he couldn't quite identify wisped up towards the nether ceiling and a high-pitched but quiet whistling made its presence known as part of the new biome he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickle nervously.

"Sapnap, please be careful!" the elder pleaded as the younger thoughtlessly jumped over the small lava river harshly splitting the new biome from the old. Sapnap turned to look back at Bad, a gentle apology on his face as he waited.

"Bad, I'm going to be fine. You don't need to worry about me all the time," Sapnap said quietly once Bad had made his way across carefully. The addressed sighed and nodded.

"Okay, okay. I just can't help it."

"I know," the younger replied, reaching up and tightening his headband after his sweat had loosened it. "We'll need to work on it."

Now that he was walking through the new biome, Bad felt a sense of dread come back to him even stronger than before. This place was much, much quieter. Where the old biome had been alive with the grunts, snorts, and occasional yelps and wails of its inhabitants, this one was only occupied by the echoes of distant booms and screams, as well as the same low whistling Bad had heard before. Even the fire, which flickered an eerie pale blue, was nearly silent.

"Woah," Sapnap exclaimed from up ahead. Bad froze, lifting his head up to look at his friend, wondering what could have caused him to say just one word in such a scared tone.

"Sapnap, what's wrong?"

The other man turned and looked back at him, his mouth twisted into an uneasy frown. He shook his head, "I'm fine, just got surprised. This sand grabs at you, apparently."

"What?" Bad asked, confused. He walked up next to Sapnap and stared down at the sand in front of them. It was different from the brown, rocky sand under them; they were standing on smooth, nearly solid ground while the stuff in front of them looked grainy and loose. Bad looked closer, seeing screaming faces swimming in the sand. Every once in a while one would slip out of the ground and float up to the ceiling, still despairing, and a new one would take its place in the same state.

"Sapnap," Bad said shortly, continuing to stare at the souls as they battled to escape. "We can't go through here. We don't even know what this stuff is."

"But Bad," Sapnap protested, "the compass said Dream and George are in this direction! We need to get to them as soon as possible."

The older man sighed, looking up to meet dark eyes as they watched him, waiting for his reply. But really, what's the worst thing that could happen with grabby sand? They just get slowed down a little? Biting his cheek, Bad slowly nodded.

"Okay," he relented, a sigh escaping his lips even as he spoke. "But we need to be careful."

"Of course."

Taking a careful step forward, Bad gently set his foot on the soul-holding sand, yelping when it did indeed cling to his boots.

"Steady, Bad," Sapnap assured, taking a couple steps forward, obviously weighed down by the sand trying to hold him back. "Steady."

Bad took a deep breath, taking another step forward and flinching when the sand latched onto him as soon as he touched it. Steeling himself, he took another step forward. And then another, and then another.

The two men trudged forward across the dead valley, needing more and more strength for each step. Sapnap simply grit his teeth and kept going, despite his pace slowing the farther he went. Bad, on the other hand, felt himself tiring quickly. He simply didn't have the strength left in his legs and the way his heart jumped every time he sank just a little further into the ground wasn't helping.

"Sapnap!" he called out wearily. The dark-haired man turned to him, eyes widening when Bad dropped to his knees tiredly, the sand peeling off the bottom of his boots as he did so.

Bad was terrified. He could feel the sand gripping onto his trousers and trying to pull him down, but he was too exhausted to fight his way back up into a standing position. His hands dropped to the ground in front of him, his last attempt to steady himself, and they too were seized by the sand below. As he watched he could see the grains of sand, moving together as if they were tendrils, steadily wrapping around his fingers. Now that he was closer he could also see how agitated the souls in the ground were, swirling around him as if they were fish to bread.

He was so tired.

"Bad!" a voice came from behind him and then Bad felt his friend tugging on him, wrapping his arms around Bad's torso. "C'mon Bad, work with me!"

"It's okay, Sapnap," the older replied numbly. "You can leave me here, I'll be okay. Just take the compass with you."

He was sinking further, he could feel it. But he didn't care.

"What? No!" the other man protested, tugging on Bad harder. The sinking man winced at the pain. "I can get you out of here. I'm so, so sorry Bad."

Bad hummed a flat note. If he stayed here, what's the worst that could happen? These souls, these people stuck in the sand, they seemed to like him if their shrieks surrounding him was anything to go off of. They wanted him to join them. If he stayed here, Sapnap would go ahead and get George and they could back to the surface without Bad holding them back. 

They'd be fine. They didn't need him.

"Sapnap," Bad said quietly. The tugging stopped. "Just go. Please."

"Bad, what's up with you?" Sapnap asked softly. Bad felt tears well up in his eyes as he realised that his friend was already crying.

This was all his fault. Sapnap was crying because of him.

"They want me here," Bad whispered. 

"I want you more!" Sapnap cried. "I need you, Bad. Both me and George do."

Bad shut his eyes, tight. He went limp and Sapnap started pulling again. Why was he trying so hard? He'd be much better off leaving Bad here.

"Bad," Sapnap said quietly. Bad opened his eyes and realised that the pressure of the soul sand gripping him was gone and the shrieks of the dead were starting to quiet. 

"I'm sorry, Sapnap," Bad apologised softly, choking on his tears as he spoke. He heard a gentle sigh above him and realised that Sapnap was awkwardly holding him off the ground, making sure no part of him was touching the sand.

"No, I'm sorry, Bad," the young man replied, his voice dripping with guilt. "This was a bad idea."

"We all have bad ideas sometimes," the older man said tiredly, staring up at the nether ceiling. In his peripheral vision, he saw Sapnap hang his head.

"Bad, I'm gonna switch you onto my back, okay?"

The addressed hummed and Sapnap gently set him on the ground, going around him as fast as he could and pulling him onto his back. It was a bit awkward, but Bad managed to wrap his legs around Sapnap's waist and drape his arms over the other's shoulders.

"You ready?" 

"Let's go," Bad replied. Sapnap nodded and stepped forward, each step even harder than the hundred or so he had taken before. Soon the younger was panting but salvation was near, as the two could see the transition back to regular ground, although this looked to have a red grass covering it.

"Is that a forest?" the carried asked in wonder. Bad's mind was slowly clearing, although his memory was still foggy in the period of time between him falling to the ground and Sapnap pulling him onto his back.

"Maybe," Sapnap replied, his teeth gritted. "Let's hope we never have to go through this shit again."

"I'm sorry," Bad apologised again, deciding to ignore the swear just this once. 

"I'm sorry too, man," Sapnap responded with a sigh. 

Soon enough, although it may have been much longer than 'soon' for Sapnap, the two men found themselves back on solid, non-grabby ground. The younger man gave a sigh of relief and let Bad down before unceremoniously dropping to the ground.

"Holy fuck," Sapnap groaned, ignoring the quiet "language!" from his friend. 

"Do you want some food?" Bad asked, receiving a weary thumbs up from the other man. Retrieving a porkchop from his bag he handed it to Sapnap, who eagerly scarfed it down. 

"Ow, ow, ow," Sapnap winced when he tried to stand up after finishing, grabbing his lower legs and squeezing as if to rid himself of the pain. 

"You're gonna need some rest," Bad stated, raising an eyebrow as he waited for the other man to try and protest. He didn't, however, and instead hung his head and sighed.

"I'm gonna check this place out a bit," the elder informed, standing up and drawing his sword. He was eager to check out the low grunts he had been hearing coming out of the strange, red forest. "Maybe there's food around here."

Sapnap made a very noncommittal noise before snapping back into some form of attention, "Just don't eat anything weird right away."

"Ay ay, captain," Bad replied, earning an amused grin from his friend. Waving to the other man, Bad set out into the forest.

The crimson-coloured forest felt hostile, even though as Bad walked he could see nothing. Rustling grass made him glance around with every step and harsh but quiet grunts made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The farther he traversed into the forest (if you could call it that, the "leaves" were a red, wart-covered material), the tighter he gripped onto the hilt of his iron sword.

Eventually he decided enough was enough and after not seeing a single creature, or even a possibly edible plant, Bad decided to turn back. He must have been about halfway back, already tired and wondering what he'd tell Sapnap, when his foot swung forward and hit something soft that squealed in pain.

Stopping in surprise, he watched what looked to be a small piglet run off to hide under a tree. Kneeling down, he craned his head to try and see if it was hurt when a loud, angry snort came from behind him.

Straightening and spinning around, Bad found himself nearly face to face with what seemed to be a large, hairy, wild pig with giant tusks. He swallowed, hard, but steadied himself on his feet, maintaining eye contact with the beast as it glared at him with pale beady eyes. 

"Hey, piggy," he spoke softly but his voice still wavered. The animal's glare intensified and Bad swallowed again. "I'm just going to be on my way, no harm done, yeah?"

The beast seemed to think differently, however, as it pawed at the ground and prepared for the charge. Bad only barely missed the sharp tusks as the animal sprinted forward, managing to jump out of the way with an undignified yelp. 

Steadying himself on his feet, Bad tightened his grip on his sword and stared the beast down. He was a bit too afraid to get close, as the tusks looked sharp enough to pierce his skin easily, but he was sure that a few well-placed hits with his sword would finish the beast off quickly. 

When the monster charged again he was ready, jumping to the side and striking at the mob's side with his sword. It made contact but when the pig monster turned back to him Bad saw that it had only been a light graze to the beast's thick skin. The blow had only served to make the monster angrier and it charged for Bad again. 

This time Bad was not prepared, but thankfully he was lucky enough to not be impaled on one of the creature's tusks. Instead, the beast used its large snout to knock the hunter over before throwing him into the air.

Bad's involuntary flight came to a harsh end when he smacked against the red, warty covering of the trees, which clung to him for only a second before letting him drop to the ground. He gasped, the breath completely knocked out of him, and hugged himself as tears welled up in his eyes. A low snort near his ear alerted him to the hostile creature's presence and he curled up even further, trying to give himself some defence.

Where was his sword?

The beast nudged him again, seeming to check if he was still able to fight, before snorting and lumbering away. He held his breath, waiting to see if it might come back, before standing up. Limping over to his sword, he picked it up before starting to head out of the small clearing. He was still clutching his side, wincing whenever another shock of pain went through it. 

Just when he thought he was in the clear, something lunged at him. 

Bad fell backwards, yelping in pain at the way his side protested. The beast was back in front of him, just as mad as before. It charged at him and Bad awkwardly rolled out of the way, swinging his sword up so he could hit the monster's underbelly. The creature squealed, the sound still maintaining a lowness and airiness Bad wasn't expecting.

' _So that's where it hurts,_ ' Bad thought in satisfaction. Looking at the monster but staying put on the ground, the hunter saw the creature preparing for another charge even while black blood slowly dripped out of the cut on its belly.

The angry creature charged at him again, its head lowered so it'd be able to spear him on its tusks. Bad tried to roll out of the way again but one of the tusks still managed to stab at his left shoulder, tearing at cloth and skin. He yelped in pain, still managing to flip over and swing at the monster, a loud squeal informing him that he had hit his mark.

Bad grabbed at his shoulder, his shaking hand stained with blood when he pulled it back. He grit his teeth, looking back to the beast. It was pawing at the ground wildly, wheezing in pain, before it charged towards him one more time. Shutting his eyes, he let it charge.

His eyes snapped open when the wheezing snorts were above him. The animal, in its pained stupor, had charged right over him and seemed to be questioning what to do next. Bad did not question, however, and thrust his sword up right into the creature's underbelly. With an almost deafening yelp, the beast collapsed onto him, nearly crushing the hunter before it was well and truly dead and disappeared in a puff of smoke. 

The hunter sat up, coughing. In his lap were a few raw porkchops, his reward for winning the fight and one that he quickly put in his bag. He grimaced as he noticed that his clothes were stained in sticky black blood, trying to wipe it off as he tiredly stood. Slipping his sword back into his belt, Bad adjusted his bag and started off.

Walking back to where he thought Sapnap must be, Bad was wincing with every step. His shoulder was bleeding and his side still panged dully. When he finally stepped out of the crimson forest, spotting Sapnap leaning against a gravel pile, the oldest hunter was nearly ready to drop. 

"Oh my god, Bad!" Sapnap shouted after he spotted his friend, getting up and running over to where Bad was stumbling out. "Holy shit, what happened to you?"

"Language," Bad replied with a cough. He reached into his bag and pulled out the raw porkchops. "I got us some food."

"Porkchops?" Sapnap asked, bewildered but still taking the meat, all the while looking Bad over from head to toe and frowning at the mob blood. Sapnap threw Bad's arm over his shoulder and started walking him over to where the younger had established camp, supporting him as the older limped along.

"Yeah," the brunet confirmed. "There's some angry pig things out there."

"Bad, you could have gotten me!" Sapnap scolded, helping sit Bad down against the gravel pile. The younger put his hands on his hips and looked down with disapproval at the older, who simply couldn't suppress a giggle as he thought of how much Sapnap looked like the old village cook when she had scolded him and his friends as children whenever they had tried to sneak muffins and cookies away. She always gave them to the young boys anyway, as long as they promised to help her out later.

"What's so funny?" the younger asked, receiving a shake of the head and a small smile in reply. 

"Nothing, nothing."

"Okay, well, I'm just gonna cook these porkch-" Sapnap cut himself off and kneeled down to scrutinise Bad's shoulder before looking at him with a mixture of disbelief and upset on his face. "Oh my god Bad, what the hell happened?"

"I may have gotten into a fight with one of those angry pig things," Bad admitted, scratching absentmindedly at the scruff growing on his face. Sapnap looked like he was about to go kill all the "angry pig things" and Bad at the same time.

"You're officially banned from going off on your own," Sapnap stated, getting up and walking over to a small campfire he had set up. Bad frowned, watching his friend set the porkchops to cook.

"That's not fair!" the elder protested. "I'm older than you!"

"And more experienced, yeah yeah," Sapnap replied dryly. "Fine, neither of us are allowed to go off without the other, how about that?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Good," the other said, walking back over with a steaming porkchop in hand before handing it over to Bad, "Careful, it's hot."

The older blew on the cooked meat a few times before biting into it, yelping loudly when he found it was still hot. Sapnap chuckled, shaking his head, before sitting down to Bad's left, "told you."

Bad made a face at the other, earning another laugh, but chose not to bite into the hot food again. The other man took his sword to the bottom of his already torn trousers, cutting off a decently sized, clean portion and setting himself to the task of wrapping up Bad's shoulder.

"Got any other cuts I don't know about?" Sapnap questioned, his fingers moving deftly as he bound up Bad's wound with the black fabric.

"No," the elder answered, finally deciding to take another bite into the meat, this one much smaller and more careful. He found that it had cooled just enough, so he continued on. "Hey, Sapnap?"

"Mm?" the other hummed in reply, finishing up with the fabric and sitting back.

"Do you think George is, like," Bad hesitated, "okay? Right now?"

Bad had convinced himself that Dream wouldn't hurt George because he had acted strange with the hunter. Why would the man give him his hoodie and not just kill him, for example? But the more he thought about it the more he realised that it was a bit idealistic to think that way: Dream was, by all accounts, a criminal. Who knows how far that went?

"I hope so," Sapnap finally replied, hugging his knees to his chest with a glum look on his face. He shifted and something sparked in his eyes. "If Dream does anything to him, I'll make that fucker hurt."

"Language," Bad said quietly but he nodded nonetheless. "Hopefully he'll be okay and we can just take Dream out of here."

"We'll have to make him hurt somehow," Sapnap responded coldly. "Look, you've already gotten hurt just by being here. We need to get him back in some way."

"Sapnap," Bad sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. 

"What, you think we should just let him off easy after all he's done?"

"No! I didn't say that," the older replied. "I just think we shouldn't be thinking of that right now. Right now we need to be focusing on getting George back and capturing Dream. Well, finding them first, then doing that. We don't need to be the judge, jury, and executioner out here."

Sapnap hummed flatly before standing.

"Tell me when you think you're ready to go," Sapnap said, his voice void of any particular emotion. Bad sighed and nodded even though his friend couldn't see, pulling out the compass and squinting at it in confusion. 

Had it always been pointing in that direction?


	24. Blaze

The soft crackles of fire outside echoed through the halls of the dark fortress, accompanied by the infrequent clanking of bones and the airy groans of an unfound source. Footsteps sounded through the empty halls, an uncomfortably out of place addition to the hellish noises around the two men. Both their swords were drawn and ready as they wandered around the fortress, their blades and iron armour catching the flickering light every once in a while.

"What exactly are we looking for?" Dream hissed to George. There was no reason to be so quiet, but the lonely fortress halls somehow demanded it. So far they had found no monsters lurking in these dimly lit halls, a fact that clearly made George uneasy while Dream wondered if this was normal for such a place.

"A spawner, I think," George whispered again, eyes darting around even though there was no way a mob could sneak up on them in the long hallway. They reached an intersection and turned left, trying their best to find their way to the muffled hostile noises. "Or a blaze. Either way, we'll know it when we see it."

Dream nodded and simply continued on, thoughts drifting to Flame and how they were doing. A chill ran down his spine as he thought of something.

"Hey, uh, George," he began, his mouth feeling a bit dry, "your friends, the hunters. Do they still have that hunter's compass?"

"Oh, you know what that is?" the other man asked curiously.

"Yeah, my best friend as a kid really wanted to be a hunter. He and I did a lot of research on them," a small smile formed on Dream's face, "he got bored of it sometimes and fell asleep, but I thought it was pretty interesting."

"Never thought you'd be the nerdy type," George replied dryly, laughing softly when Dream playfully punched him on the shoulder.

"Well, it turned out to be pretty useful, huh?"

"I'll give you that," the other agreed, turning another corner. Dream followed him closely. "And about the hunter's compass, they should have it. Why?"

"Well, first of all," Dream started, "they can track me, which is bad news for both of us. Secondly, I'm worried they might find Flame and hurt them."

"Bad wouldn't hurt a fly," George replied.

"Real hunter material, huh?" Dream said sarcastically, looking out of one of the fenced windows. Netherrack was nearly covering it, so they must be going into one of the nether walls. They reached a staircase and walked down, Dream skipping three or more steps at a time while George took his time.

"He's good, just not very violent," George explained. "He'll take a human life if he has to. Animals are different. Flame's gonna be alright."

Dream hummed in reply, perking up when he heard the sound of a fiery breath much closer than they'd experienced before. He glanced at George, who seemed to have noticed it as well.

"We're close," the shorter man whispered lowly, tightening his grip on his sword. Dream nodded.

"What about the other guy though?" he asked quietly. "You were with two other hunters, right?"

"Sapnap's a bit of a wild card," George replied shortly. "A bit hotheaded and stupid sometimes but like I said, if Bad's there Flame will be fine."

The shorter man halted, Dream quickly followed his lead. The blazing and breath noises sounded so close that the blazes had to be just around this corner. George gave a soft sigh, stepping forward and putting a hand on Dream's shoulder.

"Trust me, don't worry about Flame, we'll go get them when we're done here," he said quietly. "If you keep worrying, you're going to fight worse and you're going to get hurt. I don't want that to happen."

"Aw, Georgie cares about me," Dream teased. The brunet rolled his eyes and pulled away.

"Stay focused, Dream," George replied, turning away and peeking around the corner. After only a moment, he pulled his head back and nodded at Dream. The hunted nodded back and gripped his sword tightly, pulling his shield closer to his chest. George's eyes drifted to it, almost as if he realised something, but he simply shook his head and signalled for Dream to stay right behind him.

George leapt out around the corner, Dream following close behind him. The dirty blond's eyes widened when he saw the wispy but firey creatures in front of them, their disembodied heads turning towards the two when they recognised the men's presence. Almost immediately the rod-like limbs floating around the heads started spinning faster, generating fire in the air around the blazes.

While Dream was standing there, in both shock and awe, George had darted forward quickly. His sword flashed and he hit one of the blazes directly in the head. It gave a low but airy groan as it was knocked back, but Dream did not miss that the iron blade had passed almost entirely through the monster's head, only stopping when it hit something near the middle.

"What's taking you so long?!" George yelled, swinging his sword at one of the blazes again. This time he missed and it went right through the mob's head. It didn't seem to be angry at this, perhaps merely disappointed, and in retaliation it fired a quick-moving fireball at George. The hunter hissed and jumped to avoid it, landing on the ground and immediately delivering another well-placed blow to a fiery spirit.

Snapping out of his stupor, Dream dashed forward, raising his sword above his head and delivering a harsh blow that landed. The blaze groaned and the rods around it spun faster as it prepared to shoot a fireball right at Dream.

"How do you know how to fight these so well?!" Dream shouted, ducking behind his shield when the blaze finally fired. The wood of his shield caught on fire and he slammed it against the wall, extinguishing the flames and adding but another sound to the hallway filled with crackles, groans, and clangs.

"It's all about aim!" George replied, grunting as a blaze fired at him, nearly striking him right in the chest, and he had to leap out of the way. Dream jumped behind the blaze and brought his sword down upon it, reducing it to smoke as it gave a final low groan. The brunet gave him a tight smile and picked himself up.

"Thanks," he said, dusting himself off and returning to an offensive stance before darting forward and delivering two successive blows to the two blazes still in the hallway with them, knocking them further back. Dream walked over to the rod that the blaze had dropped and put in his bag, giving a low whistle as George continued to accurately strike at the blazes, soon killing both of them. The brunet turned to him with a look of mild pride on his face.

"You're a real help, Dream," George commented, bending over and picking up the single rod that had dropped before Dream walked over to him.

"I promise I'll fight more next time," Dream replied, taking the rod and placing it in his satchel with its twin. He grinned and looked back to the hunter, "you're just doing so well, Georgie. I really don't think you need me."

George rolled his eyes and gave a small, awkward laugh, "I don't, but some help would be nice."

"I'll keep that in mind."

They continued walking down the now cleared hallway, George explaining that there must be a spawner nearby because of the collection of blazes. He was proven right after only two quick corner changes, the hallway opening up to a large, fenced balcony with a small fiery cage in the middle. Dream began stepping out, curious to see what the cage was and why something inside it had begun spinning rapidly, when George stretched his arm out and stopped him.

"That's the spawner," George whispered lowly, lowering his arm once he was sure Dream wouldn't keep walking forward. The taller nodded, watching the spawner as fire shot out of it and quickly formed into three blazing heads with rods spinning around it. The blazes immediately locked their attention on the two men, preparing for an attack.

Both Dream and George quickly sprang into action, rushing to opposite sides of the balcony and dividing the blazes' attention. Dream stared down the two blazes that had kept their eyes locked on him, keeping himself light on his feet as they prepared to fire at him.

They fired at him, both aiming directly for his chest. Dream leapt to the side, eyes widening slightly when he saw the two fireballs merge and burst right where he had been standing. Moving quickly, he made his way towards the floating heads, swinging at them in frustration as they rose into the air.

"How are we supposed to get them when they're up there?!" he yelled at George, who looked to be having the same problem as he swung at his blaze.

"Just do your best!" the other shouted in reply. Dream watched as he jumped up one of of the fences on the outskirts of the balcony before leaping from it to deliver a hard blow to the blaze that knocked it halfway across the balcony area.

"Huh," Dream breathed, jumping back in surprise when the blazes above him fired again. Following George's lead, he ran to the edge of the balcony and climbed one of the taller fences. At the top, he drew himself up and steadied his footing on the thin fencing before locking his eyes on the blazes that were hovering at about the same height. He took a deep breath and leapt forward, sword ready to swing.

A heavy swing of his sword struck both blazes perfectly, sending them both across to George's side with twin groans. Dream fell to the ground, landing awkwardly on both feet before rolling forward. When he looked to George he saw that the brunet had just finished off his own blaze, as evidenced by the light grey puff of smoke wisping into the air.

"Jesus, how do you finish them off so fast?" Dream asked, more to himself than anyone else. He jumped towards George as the blazes above them fired at him again, grinning impishly as the other rolled his eyes in amusement.

"I can see you're doing well," George said sarcastically, looking at the two blazes that Dream had left.

"Hey, it's two against one!" Dream protested, turning to the blazing mobs and steadying his grip on his sword's hilt. "How is that fair?"

George snorted, "I'm sure if you _tried_ , you'd be fine."

Dream rolled his eyes, his gesture hidden by his mask, before he dashed forward and jumped, trying to scrape at the bottom of the blaze. He just barely touched it in the right spot but the impact was great; the blaze spun further up into the air with a pained groan, knocked back by the blow. The dirty blond landed better this time but still fell into a roll, springing up to his feet and turning back to the blazes.

George was having trouble dodging the fireballs sent by both of the blazes hovering in the air; he was quick with his strikes but slower on his feet, too slow to dodge the fast-moving projectiles. Dream hopped up onto the spawner and jumped to strike at the closest blaze, dealing a fatal blow and landing on both of his feet. As he watched, the other blaze fired and his eyes widened as he realised that George wouldn't be able to get out of the way fast enough.

There was a loud shriek as the blaze's fireball hit George's chest and left arm. Dream ran towards him, quickly jumping in the air and hitting the blaze from behind just enough to kill it for good. Behind him, Dream heard the sudden gasps and groans from blazes that had just spawned. He spun around, shield held in front of him, and backed up so he could try to cover both him and the hunter behind him.

"We need to get you a shield," the dirty blond hissed after George had crept a little closer to him. He felt the other nod but focused his eyes on the four blazes that had spawned in front of them. The floating heads watched them with interest, or so it seemed, but there was nothing to say that they were going to attack. Dream felt extremely weak all of a sudden; this entire time he had been running on adrenaline but now that he was stood here, cowering behind a shield, he felt extremely hot and worn out.

"C'mon," he whispered, starting to move sideways along the fencing of the balcony with George following close behind. One of the blazes started spinning faster, gathering flames to its firey head, and Dream paused, ducking behind the shield and covering both him and George until the blaze fired.

Slamming his shield against the ground, Dream successfully extinguished the fire. However, this caught the attention of the other blazes and the dirty blond watched with mild horror and awe as they all started to rise into the air and come closer, spinning faster all the while.

"Run!" he yelled, abandoning all hope that the shield would be enough to protect them and making a break for the open hallway. As he ran, a fireball sparked the ground to his left, making him stumble to his left awkwardly. A second fireball spat at his heels and pushed him onwards, hissing at the heat.

 _'Where's the third?'_ he thought, his silent question quickly answered by another yell from George. Dream made it into the hallway, making sure he was covered by the roof, before quickly spinning around. The hunter ran in close behind him, wincing and grabbing at him to pull him further into the fortress. When they neared the corner he stopped, dropping to the ground and looking at his leg.

"Fuck me," the brunet mumbled, poking at the underside of his leg. Dream glanced at the other man and saw that his jeans were burned. He frowned, getting out a crafting table as well as planks and an iron ingot.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice brisk and direct as he worked the wood. George gave a weak hum in reply, tugging at his jeans in a pointless attempt to cover the burns there.

"Not really," the hunter answered, lifting his arms and looking at where he had been previously hit. "Some mild burns, I think I'll be okay."

"You should eat something," Dream advised, his voice slowly returning to its regular pace. His fingers started to tremble as he gently moulded the iron to hold together the planks and he swallowed. "Make sure none of your clothing rubs too hard against the burns."

George hummed another reply, standing up and walking over to where Dream was. The hunted shook his head at whatever food item George offered, vaguely aware that the hunter shrugged and started to eat the food himself.

"This shield is going to help you out a lot," Dream said absentmindedly, patting the iron down in a few places where it stuck out. George watched silently as the taller smoothed the iron and wood together, skillfully crafting a loop at the back of the developing shield. "I can't believe we didn't make you one earlier."

The hunter sighed and nodding, poking at one of the burns on his arms, opening his mouth to speak before Dream quickly said, "Stop that. You're going to make it worse."

"Sorry," the other man replied, his arms dropping to his sides. Finally finishing up the shield, Dream pulled it away from the crafting table and set it against the wall before reaching his hands towards George.

"Can I see?" he asked gently, patiently holding his hands out and grabbing George's arm when he held it out. The burn was fairly large, starting about an inch from his elbow and continuing about three inches down on his lower arm. It was an inflamed pink, with orange and reds peeking out near the middle as a small amount of blood tried to escape George's body. Dream squinted at it, his vision impaired by the flickering and dim light in the hallway, deciding that it wasn't too crippling to require urgent care.

"It's not too bad," he commented, letting go of George's arm and letting it gently fall to the other's side. He tapped the iron chestplate that the hunter was wearing, looking right into his eyes. "You're lucky you were wearing this. A burn on the chest is not good news, no matter how minor it is."

George nodded and the two men stood in silence for a moment before Dream spoke again, "can I look at your leg, then?"

"Yeah, but I don't think it's that bad either," the brunet replied, taking a seat on the crafting table and crossing his right leg over the left so the taller could take a look. "We should probably hurry up here, I really don't wanna be in the middle of a fight when Bad and Sapnap get here."

"Yeah, got it."

George jeans were thoroughly singed under his lower leg, revealing a burn through black tendrils of remaining fabric. Gently pulling at the remaining strands that were digging into the fresh burn, Dream broke them and allowed the injury to breathe. It was difficult to tell in the low light but this burn didn't look serious either; it was a blotchy pink with deeper intrusions here and there, presumably where sparks of fire had really dug in. The hunted pulled away, giving the other man a weak shrug.

"It's not too bad, yeah," he said lamely. "Nothing we can really do about it right now. Just don't get hit there."

George nodded, standing up off the crafting table and picking up the shield leaning against the wall. As Dream put away the crafting table, the other man equipped the shield and made a few experimental blocks.

"Alright, let's go," the brunet said once he saw that Dream was finished. The blond gave a nod and they walked down the hallway back towards the balcony.

The two men leapt out onto the balcony, staring up at the four blazes still floating in the air. The creatures paid them no mind, leading the hunter and hunted to nod silently at each other before creeping around the edge of the balcony in opposite directions.

A clanging groan sounded when Dream landed the first hit, leaping off the balcony fencing and towards the second-lowest blaze, the blow knocking it down further. Another blaze hissed loudly once George had hit it, jumping from the other side and knocking it directly across the balcony. Surprised, Dream awkwardly swung at the blaze that was now uncomfortably close to his face. When he missed he dropped into a crouch, covering himself with his shield in preparation for the fast-moving fire that must soon be coming.

He was right when the blaze above fired, pummelling two successive fireballs into his shield and making him grit his teeth at the heat that still managed to slip through his shield. Slamming his shield onto the ground, he extinguished the flames licking at the wood of his shield before stabbing upward into the blaze's middle, killing it instantly.

Dream and George continued fighting the blazes for another half hour or so, not paying much mind to what the other was doing at the time. The taller man developed a system of luring the blazes down by crouching as low as he could before leaping up at them and delivering a critical hit. In between spawns, Dream would sometimes climb up onto the tall fences bordering the balcony only to leap down and strike the blazes from above, but while this dealt a lot of damage he wasn't reliable when it came to his aim.

From the few glimpses he saw of the man, George seemed to mainly use the jumping down method, although he also stood on top of the spawner itself to spring up and hit the blazes from below. The brunet was a lot better at aiming than Dream, sometimes even opting to throw his sword at the blazes that were too high and managing at least a weak hit almost every time.

At the end of it all, retreating back into the safe hallways, the two men shared the loot and found that they had gotten thirteen blaze rods between them.

"That's gotta be enough, right?" George asked. The hunter's face was slightly flushed and he hadn't quite caught his breath yet, clearly still riding the adrenaline of the lengthy fight.

"Gotta be, I have no idea," Dream replied with a shrug. He looked at George thoughtfully, "You wouldn't happen to know anything about the end, would you?"

"Not more than anyone else," the other man answered with a shake of the head. "You need ender eyes to get in, there's a dragon, the ender people live there, all that stuff. Our books never really talked about it. It's rumoured that a bunch of outcasts made the first portal and it's still out there somewhere, but that's all I really got."

Dream nodded, starting to place the blaze rods in his satchel before George started to protest. The taller man looked up, his expression questioning as the other man faltered.

"D-do you think I could have a few?"

Straightening in surprise, Dream stared at a seemingly embarrassed George, "why?"

"Wanted to try and make some potions later," the brunet replied awkwardly with a shrug. Dream grinned, starting to chuckle lightly.

"Georgie, you really are becoming a regular criminal," Dream said with amusement, dropping in most of the rods into his satchel before handing three to a pouting George.

"Don't say that," George mumbled, taking the rods and shoving them into the blue bag hanging near his waist. Dream chuckled under his breath again and turned, motioning with his hand for George to follow him.

The two men walked through the hallways, silent and thoughtful. Although the stress of fighting the blazes was now relieved, they were both slowly realising that the end of their awkward alliance was coming near. A dark chill ran down Dream's spine as he remembered the two hunters that must be hot on their trail by now.

Maybe they were outside the fortress right now.

"We need to get Flame and get out of here," Dream suddenly said. George only nodded in reply, seeming to understand his urgency.

"Remember, Dream," the brunet spoke, having to quicken his pace to keep up with Dream's strides. "Our agreement."

"Of course, Georgie," the other replied with a mildly impish grin, earning a huff from George. "Just keep an eye out and I'll tie you up when I can."

"Maybe you should do it now," George said nervously, his fingers twitching involuntarily.

"So eager, George," Dream answered, amusement coating his words.

"Not like that!" the shorter protested, frowning. "I'm just nervous, that's all."

"That they'll think you're with me for good," Dream stated quietly. George did not reply, but his silence was a confirmation in itself. The taller nodded, reaching into his bag for the string ropes he still carried.

"I'll be ready for it," he continued, receiving a grateful smile and nod from the brunet.

Their footsteps echoed through the dark hallways, with the sound of a rock hitting the wall joining them ever so often as the two men's shoes scuffed against the cracking bricks. They had returned to silence, but this one was more comfortable.

They knew what they needed to do.

"Flame!" George said eagerly as they turned a familiar corner, and Dream felt a gentle smile form on his face as the shorter man quickly walked over to the small patchy cat still sitting patiently on the window sill. Flame gave a delighted meow as George pet them, scratching them under the chin and grinning when they started to purr.

"Hi, Flame," Dream greeted with a smile, giving the cat a firm pet down the back. Flame mewed in reply, their yellow and blue eyes shining up at him. "You can get up now."

Flame stood up, stretching, before pawing at George's waiting hand. He wasted no time petting them again, kneeling down and murmuring nonsensically to them. Dream felt cosy and warm as he looked upon the two, casting a lazy glance out the window before his eyes widened. He tapped George's shoulder urgently, his gaze locked on the two men that were climbing over the cliff's edge.

"We have to go, now."


	25. Cliff

Sapnap and Bad had been following the compass for a little while, hopping over small lava rivers and hopping down small ledges until they were back down at the level of the lava pools covering the bottom of the nether. After Bad had noticed the compass's drastic shift in direction, they had quickly packed up camp and started after George and Dream. There were only two possible explanations for what had happened: either the runaway duo had found their final location and headed there directly, or the compass wasn't pointing to them at all.

The hunters didn't want to think about the latter.

"Do you think they'll be all the way down here?" Bad asked thoughtfully, eyes flitting up to the rocky platforms on various levels above them. Sapnap shrugged, subconsciously picking up the pace and pulling the two forward. 

"The compass will show us," he replied hollowly. Internally he was sick with worry. What if the compass had been leading them in the wrong direction the entire time? Then they would probably never find George, and they'd be completely lost to boot. 

While Sapnap was stewing in his thoughts, he suddenly heard a small sound of surprise come from his friend next to him. He stopped, pulling his gaze away from the red rocky floor and looking back to see Bad staring up at something in front of them with a look of awe on his face. Turning to look, Sapnap's eyes travelled all the way up a huge, dark red structure that reached down into the huge lava lake and stretched almost all the way up to the low ceiling. 

"Woah," Sapnap breathed, taking a step back to get a fuller picture of the huge structure.

"They have to be there," Bad whispered, looking down at the compass and nodding. The hazel-eyed man looked to the younger, "Let's go." 

Climbing up the steep cliff as carefully as they could, Sapnap and Bad were quickly getting worn out. Sapnap especially was getting impatient with how slow Bad was climbing, using up precious seconds by looking for a hold that was only a tiny bit more stable than the others. 

"Good gods, can you hurry up, Bad?" Sapnap yelled up, grunting as he stretched himself out to grab onto a hold above him. 

"I'm doing my best!" his friend replied with a sigh, his voice soft and quiet by the time it reached Sapnap's ears. "I just don't want to fall."

Sapnap huffed; he knew that Bad's anxiety was justified (there was a ton of lava below them, after all) but he couldn't help but think about how every moment wasted was a moment George spent captured and in danger. Eventually, he just sucked it up, simply gritting his teeth and thinking about how he would destroy Dream for doing this to them so he could take his mind off his aching arms. 

"Finally," he muttered once Bad had dragged himself up onto the top of the cliff above him. He quickly climbed the rest of the way up and let Bad help him onto the ledge, looking up and staring at the imposing fortress now directly in front of them. Something shiny flashed from within, making him blink at the sudden light. When he tried to get a better look, it was completely gone. 

"Yeah, they've got to be in there," the hazel-eyed man beside him said. Sapnap glanced over, seeing that Bad had gotten his compass out. The needle was quivering ever so slightly, pointing directly into the fortress but shifting its position by millimetres every once in a while. 

"Let's go," Sapnap decided, standing up and grabbing the hilt of his sword from where it was hanging on his belt just to reassure himself that it was there. He stood up, suddenly feeling very heavy and uncomfortable. 

"I didn't realise how hot this armour is, holy muffins," Bad commented. Sapnap nodded, adjusting the armour covering his shoulders. Thankfully, the two of them hadn't decided to go all out when they were crafting armour and make full-body armour. Instead, they had made iron guards that they were able to attach to their clothing in vulnerable areas, which made the going much lighter and at least a bit cooler, especially in the nether. 

"Better not focus on it now," Sapnap replied grimly, starting for the fortress and pulling out his pickaxe. He mined away the fences covering one of the windows, slipping into the dim hallway and scanning the area. 

It was fairly quiet, almost suspiciously so. He could hear the crackles of fire nearby, presumably from outside, and the clanking of what must have been skeletons if he listened especially closely. He was so focused on the distant noise that when Bad's boots hit the floor behind him Sapnap nearly jumped. 

"Oh!" Bad exclaimed, "sorry for scaring you, Pandas."

"Bad, please be quieter," Sapnap begged, slipping his pickaxe back into the open belt loop. The quietness made him uneasy, but he wasn't quite sure why yet. The other hunter gave a silent nod, stepping closer to Sapnap and pulling out the compass again. The two of them looked at it, seeing that it was pointing straight down the hall. 

After a quick nod was exchanged between the two, they started off. The crackles of fire slowly quieted the farther they went until they were completely inaudible. The clanking of bones, however, did not disappear.

It didn't start to sound any closer either. 

Bad started to hum an awkward tune, the notes resting in the heavy air like a zombie would in a bed. The younger could tell through the other man's quivering notes that he was almost as unsettled as he was. Neither of them said anything about it. 

The compass turned sharply, earning a grimace from Bad. After a staircase down to another level, they soon reached an intersection where they turned left, following the quivering red needle. 

Bad shrieked. 

They were now met face to face with a blackened and withered skeleton. Sapnap felt the blood rush out of his face as he stared up at the monster, noticing that it was definitely over a head taller than both him and Bad. It snarled at him, or at least did the best it could with the charred flesh still clinging to its bones, before raising the stone sword it clung to with a broken hand and swinging at him. 

Acting in pure instinct, Sapnap dropped to the floor. His hands shaking, he clumsily drew his iron sword and swung at the mob's spindly legs, fully aware that its attention was now focused on a still upright Bad. It stumbled with his strike, allowing him to jump up and deliver a blow from behind that sent shards of bone flying. Bad was the one to deliver the final blow, raising his sword above his head and bringing it down upon the creature's skull. 

The withered skeleton crumbled to the floor, its fragments reducing to nothing more but dust before even that vanished completely. It left only a bone, slightly burnt but still a bone nonetheless. Bad looked up to him with a grin, panting slightly, before his face morphed into one of horror.

"Sapnap, look o-" Sapnap didn't get to hear the rest before a dull blade was swung into his unprotected upper left arm, leaving a minor cut but a major pain. The younger winced, stumbling to the side from the throbbing pain, and he was vaguely aware of Bad attacking the charred skeleton and eventually reducing it to less than dust. 

"Oh muffins, Sapnap!" the other man shrieked, rushing over to his friend. Sapnap couldn't even wave him away and say that he was fine; his head was spinning and the tiny cut that had been slashed into his arm had spawned a pain that was ripping through his body in waves. 

Through eyes blurry with tears, Sapnap glanced at his minor injury and nearly gagged; the cut, which had only drawn a tiny amount of blood, was blossoming into a black colouring that seemed to be spreading across the rest of his clothed arm. The skin he could see looked dry and flaky, and as he dropped his head against the wall next to him he saw that his fingers were thin and blackened as well. 

Bad seemed to have completely lost the ability to speak, or maybe Sapnap just couldn't hear him. He watched detachedly as his friend's hands grabbed his, lifting them up presumably so the other could look at them. The other gently set them down and pulled his own trembling hands away. Sapnap could feel his eyes sinking into his skull as his cheeks hollowed out and he felt the sudden urge to hide away so no one would be able to see him. 

Then, almost as suddenly as it had started, it all stopped. 

Sapnap breathed, seemingly for the first time in several minutes. His throat felt incredibly dry and narrow, but as he continued to take in breath after breath it slowly opened up again. The tears that had gathered in his eyes flowed freely as his eyeballs were slowly pulled back into place by his rehydrating skin.

"Nick, are you okay?" Bad asked frantically, ducking his head so he could peer into Sapnap's face. The shorter weakly nodded in response, too tired to call Bad out on the name and only now realising how frail he was feeling. Concern and fear were settled in the other's eyes, muddying the hazel eyes that were usually so cheerful. 

"Gods, you need to eat right now," Bad mumbled anxiously, quickly grabbing and giving a porkchop to Sapnap. The younger took weak bites of the meat in front of him, silently thanking his friend for holding it so patiently. After managing to awkwardly swallow about half of the porkchop, Sapnap already felt much better. The feeling had returned to his fingers and his cheeks had returned to their original position. Eventually, he felt well enough to grab the remaining porkchop himself, mumbling a soft 'thank you' to Bad and quietly eating the rest of the meat. 

Bad kept a careful eye on the hallway they were in, his sword drawn and ready for any attackers. Soon Sapnap stood up, wobbling a little and giving his friend a grateful smile when Bad rushed to hold him up. 

"Alright," Sapnap said, his voice cracking and dry. He coughed once to clear it, straightening up and managing to hold his own weight. "Let's go, they must have gotten quite a start on us by now."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Bad asked hesitantly, fidgeting with the bottom of his coat. 

Sapnap grimaced, "I'll be alright. And if I'm not, just leave me behind. We need to get George."

Bad opened his mouth to try and argue but Sapnap started walking down the hall, calling for Bad to follow him. The other reluctantly caught up to him and Sapnap found himself getting annoyed with the way his older friend continued to keep a watchful eye on him. Bad pulled out the compass, looking at it for a moment before wordlessly handing it to Sapnap. 

Keeping an eye on the compass, they continued walking down the hallways. Eventually Sapnap started to get frustrated with the lack of Dream and George.

"You know what," he said, picking up the pace and breaking into a run down the hallway. He stumbled a bit, hearing the sounds of protest from Bad behind him, but he smiled weakly once he heard the strikes of boots on bricks as the other hunter started to run as well. 

Sapnap had to slow down a bit so Bad could catch up with him and then they were running side by side through the hallways. He could feel sweat soaking his clothes and running down the side of his face but they both pressed on. George _had_ to be close by. If he wasn't, then they'd been going the wrong way from the start. 

They turned a corner, stopping abruptly when they saw the armoured man down the hallway. Dream turned, his smiling mask hiding most of what looked to be a face of surprise. Sapnap's eyes flitted down to the gagged and familiar man Dream was carrying; George's hands and feet were tied and his eyes were wide. For once, Sapnap couldn't tell what the foreigner was feeling. 

"George!" Bad cried, the relief and joy evident in his voice. Sapnap's eyes narrowed, however; something felt wrong here. Maybe it was because George looked fine but wasn't struggling; maybe it was because Dream wasn't making any moves to run and was instead just staring the two hunters down; maybe it was because of the small cat twining its body around Dream's legs, apparently brought to the nether by Dream himself. 

"Give us George, Dream," Sapnap said quietly, his breath short after running for so long. He slipped the compass back to Bad, who put it away. "Give us George and we'll give you a head start."

This demand seemed to spark something in Dream as the man relaxed, transforming into the uncomfortably cool man they had heard of. 

"Hm," Dream's hum bounced off the walls, a mocking and amused sound. "No, I don't think I will."

Sapnap gripped the hilt of his sword so hard he was sure that his knuckles turned white, gritting his teeth in frustration, "fine, we'll take him back when we catch you."

With the promise leaving Sapnap's lips, Dream quickly turned heel and ran, his green hood flapping and the small patchy cat following close behind him. Sapnap didn't waste any time chasing him, and after only a second he could hear that Bad had followed suit. 

Dream was incredibly fast, and even though the hunted man's headstart had been minuscule Sapnap found himself worrying that he wouldn't be able to catch up. Bad especially was lagging behind, but as they continued running Sapnap realised that the heavy pants echoing through the desolate hallways weren't coming from the friend behind him.

Dream was tiring out. 

Gritting his teeth and pushing on with determination, Sapnap tried to pick up the pace. He couldn't see the man's face but he knew Dream must be desperate at this point; the other man was tiring out fast and it seemed near impossible to escape the massive stronghold at this point. 

They went up and down staircases, around corners and down hallways, and after a while Sapnap decided they must be going in circles. The gap between him and Dream kept shrinking all the while, and when Dream took what looked to be a new turn Sapnap was close behind him. 

Sapnap slowed his pace, seeing that the hallway had opened up onto a small cliff that ended in a point. Panting behind him informed him that Bad had managed to catch up. Dream looked around wildly before turning around and starting to back up to the cliff's edge.

He was trapped. 

"We caught you, Dream," Sapnap said with a smug smile. "Now do you want to give us George or are we gonna have to fight you for him?" 

Dream glanced behind him, his mask reflecting the hot lava far below. He looked back, licking his lips nervously before they twisted into a determined grimace. 

"You better put up a good fight, Sapnap."

There was something so oddly familiar in the way Dream said his name, even though he wasn't sure how the outlaw had even learned it. He wasn't well-known like Bad, he hadn't spent a lot of time with Dream like George, he was just...Sapnap, the hunter nobody. 

Snapping back into reality, Sapnap watched as Dream set George down on a rock, the small cat settling down next to the brunet. His eyes narrowed again; there was just something about how gentle Dream was being, or maybe it was the way that George glared at Dream, that set off alarm bells in his head.

He'd have to ask George about this after he beat Dream. 

"Ready to fight?" he called, impatient already. Dream simply sighed and stretched, clearly trying to annoy Sapnap even further and give off a relaxed air. The young man rolled his eyes, tightening his hold on his sword's hilt. He was sure Dream was panicking.

"Alright," Dream replied, pulling his sword out with a flourish. "Let's fight, then."

Sapnap dashed forward, ready to impale Dream on his sword. He stopped abruptly when Dream stepped out of the way, grinning at Sapnap as he kept a loose grip on his sword. Grimacing, Sapnap sprinted at him again, raising his sword up so he could bring it down on Dream's side. Once again, the hunted evaded him easily. 

"Are you gonna fight or not?" Sapnap asked, glaring at the dirty blond. "Or are you too afraid I'll beat your ass?" 

Both men ignored the 'language!' from Bad, and Dream's mouth twisted into one of annoyance as he thought it over.

"Okay then," he finally said, bringing his sword up and shifting into an offensive stance. "I'll fight you."

And with that Dream charged at Sapnap, his sword drawn and ready. The shorter man stumbled awkwardly out of the way, just narrowly avoiding Dream's blade. The taller wheeled around and smirked at him triumphantly. 

Now thoroughly annoyed, Sapnap straightened back up and ran at Dream. This time the hunted did not run away; he simply brought up his own sword and blocked. Grinding his teeth together, Sapnap applied more and more pressure, trying to shove Dream down. The other man was doing well on holding him off considering he was wielding his sword with only one hand, but Sapnap was clearly starting to overpower him. 

That's when Dream kicked Sapnap in the stomach. 

Stumbling back in pain, Sapnap glared up at Dream.

"That's cheating," he complained weakly, bent over and holding his stomach. Thankfully his stomach had been covered with an iron guard, but that didn't stop the kick from hurting completely. The outlaw simply shrugged.

"I never heard about any rules," the other replied. "Besides, it's not fair. You can use both hands and I only have one."

"You have a shield, you idiot!" Sapnap retorted, pointing to the shield Dream was carrying on his left arm. It was a little burnt and battered, and looked to be hastily repaired after Sapnap had dealt a fair bit of damage to it, but it was a shield regardless. Dream stared down at it, almost like he had forgotten about it, before looking back up in Sapnap's direction.

"Indeed I do," Dream replied. "Do you want me to go without it, or do you want to get your own?"

"Oh now you want to play fair," Sapnap groaned, straightening up. "I'll get mine."

"Sapnap, please don't do anything dumb," Bad whispered to him after he had walked over to Sapnap and handed him his shield. The younger nodded, fastening his shield to his arm.

"Be ready to grab George and get out of here," he mumbled back, turning back to face Dream and his stupid smiling mask. 

"Hey, you guys don't get to plot with each other!" Dream called with amusement before pointing his sword towards the still-bound George. "All I got is this idiot and Flame."

George looked genuinely offended and Sapnap rolled his eyes, "well he's our idiot, Dream."

At this, George looked even more offended and Dream barked a laugh, "You know, if we weren't fighting I'm sure we could be very good friends, Sapnap."

"Yeah, right," Sapnap scoffed, readying his sword and shield again. 

Running forward to try and hit Dream, all he got to do was deliver a harsh blow to the other man's shield. When the taller swung at him Sapnap quickly dropped to the ground, taking the opportunity to swipe at Dream's armoured lower legs.

Unfortunately he still missed, as Dream quickly jumped back. The outlaw seemed almost impressed with the impulsive attack. 

He got up to his feet, almost immediately being attacked by Dream and only saving himself by instinctively pulling his sword up in front of him. The taller man leered at him, applying more and more pressure as he towered over Sapnap and forced him to lean backwards.

"So, how far are we taking this fight, Sapnap?" he asked, his voice low and menacing. "Am I going to have to kill you?"

"You don't have the balls, asshole," Sapnap spat back, hooking his leg behind Dream's and pulling so the taller fell backwards. He stepped forward, towering over Dream who looked genuinely surprised again. Crouching down so he was near Dream's level, he whispered, "but I do."

Dream scowled, swinging his blade wildly at Sapnap's head. The shorter man easily jumped out of the way, watching as the taller got up and tried to compose himself. 

The two men were wary of each other from then on, both of them stalking around each other and only darting out every once in a while to deliver a blow that the other man would inevitably block. Sapnap was starting to get frustrated with how long the fight was dragging on, but even though at this point he believed Bad when he said that Dream wasn't much of a killer (George was still alive and apparently well, after all) Sapnap couldn't help but be afraid that Dream could still seriously hurt him, or hurt George or Bad instead. 

Dream suddenly darted out at him, taking Sapnap by surprise and forcing him to fall to the ground to avoid Dream's swinging blows. The taller man stepped over him, staring down and pointing his sword right at Sapnap's throat. He was smiling again.

"How are you going to get out of this one, Sapnap?" he asked, stamping down hard on Sapnap's arm. The shorter man yelped in pain, releasing his sword and watching in dismay as Dream kicked it away. 

Dream kneeled down and brought his sword to Sapnap's throat, pressing the flat part of the blade against him and slowly starting to apply more pressure. As Sapnap squirmed and gasped for air Dream continued to press down harder and harder. 

He wasn't smiling anymore.

All of a sudden Dream was pushed off of Sapnap and the hunter could breathe again, rolling over and gasping for air. 

"You can't do that!" Dream complained loudly. "Sapnap and I agreed to fight."

"I'm not going to stand and watch as you kill my friend!" Bad retorted, kneeling down and murmuring soft words of comfort that Sapnap couldn't quite understand. The younger heard Dream grumble, unable to respond to Bad's words in any meaningful way. 

"Bad, you should have left with George. I can take Dream by myself," Sapnap whispered hoarsely, his vision swimming back into clarity. The hazel-eyed man hummed shortly.

"I'm sure you can, Sapnap," his friend said, patting his arm. "Just maybe not this time."

Sapnap shook his head, dragging himself up to his feet. He was a bit wobbly at first, but when he found his footing he simply glared at the dirty blond sitting on the ground. 

"Alright Dream, let's finish this," he said with determination, walking over to where Dream had kicked his sword to and picking it up. Dream looked bored. 

"Oh, really?" Dream asked, his voice annoyingly flat. "I'm assuming that if you start to lose, Bad will save your ass again?"

Sapnap glared at him before looking to Bad, trying to convey a plea with only his eyes. His friend sighed and shook his head, walking over to where George was still lying uncomfortably on the ground. 

"I'll stay out of it, Pandas."

"Thanks, Bad," Sapnap replied. He looked back over to Dream, who looked strangely focused. "Dream, are you going to fight or not?"

"Yeah, of course," the other man replied, standing up. He seemed to have realised something, but Sapnap didn't know what just yet. The men started to pace around each other again, making it unclear who was truly predator and prey.

"C'mon Dream, are you too scared? Too scared you'll actually have to kill me?" he mocked, trying to goad the other man into making a mistake. The other didn't seem very bothered.

When Dream had his back to the cliff's edge, Sapnap took his chance. He darted forward boldly, startling the taller enough to the point that he jumped back. Instead of pulling back, Sapnap continued to advance, sword pointed straight ahead of him, until he had Dream backed up onto the very edge of the cliff. 

Dream started to look around, his mouth tightening, and Sapnap knew that the other man had just realised that he had nowhere to go; he either had to go through Sapnap or jump straight into the lava.

"What's wrong, Dream?" Sapnap taunted. "Out of places to run to?"

"You haven't won yet," Dream replied defiantly. Sapnap raised an eyebrow, the movement causing him to realise how sweaty he had gotten. 

"Oh, really?"

Dream said nothing, looking down into the lava below.

"Here's what I'll do," Sapnap started. "If you admit defeat, we can tie you up and take you back to surface. We won't kill you."

"I'd rather die," Dream spat back, shifting in what could have nervousness. 

"I'm fine with that too," Sapnap replied dryly.

"I'm sure you would be, Nick" the tall blond answered, a sly smile slipping onto his face before it disappeared again. Sapnap's eyes widened before his face contorted into one of anger and confusion. 

"How do you know that name?!" he hissed, rushing forward and grabbing Dream by his hood while pressing his blade into Dream's neck. The other man gave him a sickening smile mirroring the one painted onto his mask. 

"You'll never know," Dream replied, voice slightly strangled by the blade pressing into his throat. Sapnap almost growled, feeling confused, scared, and mad all at the same time. The dirty blond turned his head away from Sapnap. 

"George!" he yelled. "Take care of Flame for me!"

And with that Dream tore himself out of Sapnap's grip and stepped backwards off of the cliff into the lava below. Sapnap heard Bad yell in surprise but he paid it no mind. He sank to the ground, staring out at the nether wasteland. 

How could Dream have known?

Bad walked up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder and asking if he was okay. He gave no reply. 

Shifting closer to the edge, Sapnap looked down into the lava. There was nothing there that could have saved Dream. 

He was gone.

Grinding his teeth together and balling his hands into fists, Sapnap abruptly stood up. When he turned around, a frown etched onto his face, he saw Bad step away with his hands up. The worry and tiny amount of fear in his friend's eyes almost made Sapnap pause, but he pressed on and marched towards where George was still lying, partially untied by Bad.

He wanted answers. 


	26. Axe

George was picking at the ropes tying his ankles together, silently cursing Dream for tying them impossibly well. The binds on his hands had been much looser, probably a product of having little time to tie them after Dream had seen the other two hunters outside, so the brunet couldn't comprehend why the taller would have tied them so tightly here. 

The fight was basically over at this point, or at least he thought so, so he had decided to dedicate more attention to the ropes binding him instead of absentmindedly pulling at them. It was working much better, as he was already way closer to freedom. 

His own name being yelled shocked him enough to look up just in time to see Dream fall off of the cliff's edge. He heard Bad shriek in surprise nearby, but George himself was too stunned to do anything but stare. Had Sapnap really managed to overpower and outsmart Dream? It wasn't entirely impossible but it was definitely highly improbable. 

Sapnap, as George now noticed, had sunk to the ground as if he had been defeated. The brunet more urgently tugged at his restraints, watching Bad walk over to the man near the cliff's edge. He wasn't sure what else Dream had yelled at him, but any mention of his name was bound to arouse some sort of suspicion. 

' _They have a right to be suspicious though, don't they?_ ' 

George pushed the thought out of his mind with a low grunt. Sure, _he_ knew that his time with Dream had been less captor-captive and more temporary allies, but there was no way that the other two would know. 

Another yell of his name, just as he managed to pull the ropes away from around his ankles, yanked George's head back up. Sapnap was now storming towards him, a mean glare on his face and a sword held tight in his hand, a sight that made George involuntarily nervous. 

He stood up just as the other man made it to him, glaring down at the older hunter. George just stood patiently, knowing by the way Sapnap was shaking that he was in for a good yelling.

"What was that, George?" the other man asked, gesturing in the direction of the cliff where he and Dream had been just a few moments ago. His voice was remarkably level for George's perception of his state, so the older decided it was safe to take his chances.

"What was what, Sapnap?" he asked quietly. The corner of Sapnap's mouth twitched, his next words in a biting whisper. 

"Dream just yelled your name, George," the other said, "Dream, our enemy."

George shrugged, "yeah, he just overheard you guys saying it."

Sapnap's left eyebrow shot up and his voice did the same with its volume, "oh, really? Then how does he know _my_ name?!"

"Wait, he knows your-? How?"

"I'm asking you, George," Sapnap replied coldly. George's face twisted into an annoyed glare.

"Why do you think _I_ would have something to do with that?"

"Because you were with him for days!" Sapnap yelled.

"Not by choice!" George yelled back. "Why do you think that I would tell him anything like that?!"

"Well then how do you think he knew, huh?!" the other man argued. 

" _I don't know_ , but it wasn't me who told him," George replied, his voice suddenly quiet and cold. He saw Bad a few feet away from Sapnap, standing awkwardly as if he wasn't sure whether to butt in or not. 

"Bad, what's up with him?" he asked, aiming his gaze and his question at the older man. The other clearly didn't expect or want the attention, stammering as he tried to respond.

"Leave him out of it, George," Sapnap hissed, stepping in front of George's view of the eldest. "I just want to know how close you and Dream are, and how long it's been that way."

"There is nothing between me and Dream!" George shouted, frustrated. "Seriously, I get kidnapped and now you guys think that I'm on his side?"

"I don't-" Bad started to say, moving back into view but getting cut off by Sapnap. 

"There's gotta be something, George, or else he would have hurt you. Maybe even killed you," Sapnap replied. "But you're here, just fine. And he yelled at you to take care of a flame, whatever that is."

"He yelled at me to take care of Flame?" George asked, getting an eye roll from the taller.

"Yeah, George, he did. What the hell is that?"

The older looked down, meeting eyes with the pale grey and yellow ones of the cat nearby, "it's his cat."

"His cat?" Sapnap hissed loudly. "He yelled at you to take care of his cat and you want me to believe you guys _aren't_ friends?"

"It's not my fault he yelled something at me," George retorted sharply, shifting his gaze to stare directly into the other man's eyes. The opposing eyes narrowed. 

"No," Sapnap admitted, "But why would he yell for you in the first place?"

"Oh, I don't know Sapnap, maybe so you'd get mad at me and we'd be stuck here yelling at each other!" George shouted. For a brief moment, some sort of realisation and shame flicked through dark eyes before it was gone again.

"I don't think you're completely innocent, George," Sapnap said. The accused arched an eyebrow, folding his arms and looking at the other hunter cooly. 

"And why," he said slowly, "might that be?"

"You were wearing his hoodie," the younger accused. In the background, Bad tried to say something before Sapnap continued, "Bad had his suspicions when he saw you first wearing it, but I didn't want to believe him."

George said nothing.

" _And_ ," Sapnap continued, "he absolutely tied up your arrow wound."

"No, he didn't!" the shorter countered weakly. 

"Oh, c'mon George," the other said, "you almost failed your medical exams, I really don't think you would be able to learn so much so quickly. I mean, look at it!"

Sapnap gestured towards the tattered and bloody tourniquet, "it's rough, but that was made by someone who might have even been a medic-in-training. I would know."

"You were never a medic-in-training," George replied. A weak argument, at best.

"No, I wasn't," Sapnap agreed. "But I had friends who were and I hung out with some of them when they were practising. Now that I'm really looking at it, there's no doubt."

"So you're saying that Dream was a medic-in-training?" George replied, almost amused. 

"So you're saying that Dream tied your cut up?" Sapnap mocked.

"I didn't say that."

"Mhm," Sapnap hummed, staring at George as if the other man would cave if he stared long enough.

George was getting sick of this, his heart dropping traitorously with his next words, "look Sapnap, Dream is dead. Why can't you just be satisfied with that and we can go home?"

Sapnap's face hardened and he shook his head, "not yet. First of all, we have to figure out what your deal is."

"My deal is that I got kidnapped and now someone who is supposed to be my friend is treating me like a traitor," George answered dryly. 

"You're supposed to be our friend too, George, but you lied to us!" Sapnap shot back, hurling his sword. George winced when it clanged against a wall far behind him, almost definitely breaking, but the younger barely seemed to notice. "You probably are a traitor!"

"Hey gu-" Bad was once again cut off, this time by George.

"I never lied to you to hurt you!" The older couldn't deny that he had, in fact, lied at least a couple times to the other two hunters.

"So you lied, then!" Sapnap exclaimed in bittersweet triumph. "What would you have to hide, George?"

George wasn't sure what to say.

"You were working with Dream, huh?" Sapnap whispered lowly. "What are you going to do now that he's gone?"

"Sapnap, I was _not_ working with Dream!" George shouted in frustration. "I don't know what I have to say to make you believe me!"

"Oh, I'll believe you," the other replied, voice still dangerously low, " _if_ you answer all my questions well."

"Fine," George spat, taking a seat on the netherrack mound behind him and waiting. 

"First of all, why did you lie about who tied up your injury?"

"I didn't want you guys to get mad at me for not taking Dream down," George replied truthfully. 

"Or maybe, you were wor-" Sapnap started. George opened his mouth to interject when Bad stepped up and did it for him.

"Sapnap, stop," the eldest said, giving a pointed look towards the youngest before turning his attention to the man sitting down. "George, you could have told us and we would have understood. You were injured, you muffin!"

George hung his head but said nothing. He was sure that Bad, at the very least, really would have understood.

Sapnap cleared his throat awkwardly, "second question, why did you have his hoodie? Why'd you lie about it?"

"I don't know, he gave me his hoodie cause I was cold," George answered, a bad taste in his mouth for no particular reason. "Same reason."

"Are you sure you met Dream that night?" Sapnap asked seriously. The older nodded.

"Yeah, of course I am." 

"So Dream is a murderous asshole that indulges in doing nice things every once in a while, according to you."

"Language!" Bad scolded, getting a shrug from Sapnap.

George sighed, "if you want to say that, sure."

Sapnap's eyebrow arched and his gaze hardened, "would you say something different, George?"

"Stop trying to pick a fight, Sapnap," the older said quietly, suddenly feeling very tired. The other quickly opened his mouth to say something but shut it after Bad shot him a look.

"I just wanted to ask him his opinion, damn," Sapnap muttered. "Alright, another question, why didn't you try to get away at some point?"

"What do you mean?" George replied, furrowing his brow. "I was tied up."

"The entire time?" Sapnap asked, eyebrows raised in silent warning. George hesitated.

"No, not the entire time," he admitted. 

"So it wasn't safe to get away?" Sapnap supplied. His tone was a bit softer now. George simply nodded in agreement.

"Alright, that's fine," the other replied. "Now, how does he know my name?"

"I told you this," George started, slightly irritated. "I don't know. He knew my name without me ever telling him."

There was a moment's silence as Sapnap thought. Bad looked at George and gave him a tight smile, bouncing on the balls of his feet impatiently. Clearly he was just as done with this as George was. 

"Well, if you didn't tell him my name, and I'll trust you on that, he must have heard one of you calling me that," Sapnap finally said, shifting his gaze to Bad who simply shrugged and shook his head.

"I don't use it that much, I don't think it was that."

Sapnap sighed, reaching up and wiping away the sweat that had collected under his headband, "I guess there's only one option then."

When he didn't say anything after that, George asked, "well, what is it?"

Sapnap's face looked grim and he simply shook his head, turning and walking away. Bad turned to George, a puzzled look on his face that must have mirrored George's own expression. His friend's expression quickly changed to one of mild apology. 

"Sorry about all that, George," the other man said tiredly, turning to sit down next to the other brunet. The two men watched as Sapnap got out a crafting table and began crafting something, his back to them. 

"It's not your fault, Bad," George replied absently, thinking about lime green he couldn't see properly and painted smiles. He turned to his friend, a gentle smile on his face, "it's good to see you again, though."

Bad grinned and nodded, "yeah, I'm glad you're okay."

The older's smile fell slightly and his next words are a little quieter, "I've been worrying so much about Sapnap, it's a relief to know you're alright."

"Yeah," George said, looking back towards the youngest hunter. He couldn't help but notice how clumsy his crafting style was compared to Dream's. "What happened with him, anyway?"

Bad hummed softly, as if he was thinking of what to say, "a lot of stuff. I'll talk to you about it later."

George nodded and the two men sat comfortably, a stark contrast to the hostile atmosphere they had both been in just moments before. A soft meow called George's attention to the ground, where a concerned-looking Flame still sat.

"Good kitty," George praised, picking them up and holding them close. He felt bad for essentially forcing them to sit there while he and Sapnap argued, but at the same time he realised it was probably for the best; Sapnap might be unwilling to hurt him, but he wasn't entirely sure he'd extend that courtesy to a pet of Dream's.

"So what's this little guy's name?" Bad asked, offering his hand to Flame. The small cat sniffed it warily before rubbing against it, allowing the hunter to pet them. 

"Their name's Flame," George replied. His friend hummed in response, petting Flame until they started to purr. There was silence once again.

"So they were Dream's cat, huh?" Bad suddenly said. His voice was careful and soft, as if he was worried his words would upset George. "Never would have expected that."

"Me neither," George replied truthfully. 

"Any idea why Dream wanted you to take care of them?" the other asked, smiling at the patchy cat as they quietly purred. "I'm not complaining, of course."

"I don't know," the younger replied. The other hunter hummed a single note, probably seeing through George's partial lie but not wanting to call it out.

"I mean, like," George continued, "who else would he leave them to? And it's not like Dream and I didn't talk, we talked a bit."

"Aha," Bad said quietly. "I see."

"Don't take it the wrong way, we weren't anything close to friends." George was lying and he was almost certain his friend could tell. "We just ended up chatting sometimes, that's all."

"George," Bad sighed, "you don't have to defend yourself to me. You're back, that's all I care about. You're still on our side, you're still our friend."

"However," the other man continued, tone a bit more solemn, "I wouldn't bring it up around Sapnap. Dream's a sore spot for him, as you can tell."

"Why is he still, though?" George asked. Dream was dead after all and Sapnap had fought him, isn't that what he wanted?

Bad sighed, "well, I'm going to have to talk with him later, I guess. He's had a rough time recently and I'm sure he'll tell you something about it sometime."

George hummed absently, reaching up to scratch at his arm as watched the youngest and finding the ragged tourniquet still there. Curious, the younger pulled at the cloth tied around his upper arm, untying it and revealing an injury that had healed. Only a light scar was left, so George let the ruined fabric fall to the ground.

"Oh, how's that doing?" Bad asked. George turned to show him his arm, letting Bad hold it to get a better look.

"Ah, looks like it healed up alright," the taller said, releasing George's arm. "I'm probably going to have to check up on Sapnap's injuries, now that I think about it."

"Does he have any new ones?" George inquired, glancing over at the man in question. Bad looked slightly ashamed, sighing, "yeah, we got attacked by a weird black skeleton and it messed him up pretty bad. When I looked at the injury itself, there was only a small cut but there's something else about it that I don't know what to do with."

"Oh, was it a wither skeleton?" the shorter brunet asked. He didn't know much about wither skeletons but he knew about the withering effect they inflicted on those they hit, paralysing and sucking the life out of their victims with their strange unseen poison. Apparently it hurt like hell, but the afflicted barely even noticed most of the time.

"Maybe, it did look like a skeleton," Bad replied. "Do you know what to do about it?"

"I think we're going to have to get him some milk to clear it all out. The withering's not going to hurt him much right now, but it's slowly taking over his body. It'll weaken him."

"Oh," the other hunter said quietly. "It's going to be a while before we get that."

George nodded solemnly, starting to pet Flame once again to the cat's delight. The two men sat there patiently. Sapnap eventually finished up, walking over with a crude axe in his hand and a thoughtful look on his face.

"An axe?" Bad asked curiously, pushing himself up to his feet so he was level with the other man. Sapnap nodded, running his finger down the sharp iron edge, "I heard they do more damage, so I wanted to give it a shot."

"Mm," the eldest hummed in reply, nodding absentmindedly. His eyes eventually met George's and he nodded more directly, "alright guys, let's get going. Let's go home."

"How are we going to find the portal?" Sapnap asked, eyes trained on Bad. His voice sounded unnaturally stiff like he was holding himself back from saying something else, although George had no idea what it could be. Bad either didn't notice or chose to ignore it.

"Well, we can just retrace our steps," the other suggested. The youngest arched an eyebrow in disbelief.

"I don't remember where we came from," he stated flatly. "Do you?"

Bad faltered, "well, no."

"Do you?" Sapnap asked again, looking towards George. His expression was neutral, but there was a tiredness in his eyes that didn't make it to the rest of his face. The older brunet shrugged.

"Not really."

"So we're just going to go in a random direction, then?" Sapnap sounded like he was trying to pick a fight and Bad clearly noticed it this time. The eldest stayed quiet, probably unsure of how to respond.

"I mean, that is our best bet," George quietly replied, stroking Flame and keeping his gaze level when dark eyes met his. 

"Well," Bad said, hesitating, "I _think_ the compass might help us get there."

"What?" Sapnap asked incredulously. "But it's supposed to lead us to Dream. Or anyone who's being hunted."

"That was the hunter's compass," Bad pointed out. "This one's a bit different."

"Well yeah it's different, we got it from a weird pig thing," Sapnap replied. "Why would you think it points to the portal though? It got us to Dream."

"But that was when you were holding it," the other explained. "When I held it, it turned the opposite direction."

"Why would it do that?" Sapnap asked, seemingly getting more and more confused with every word out of the elder's mouth. The other hesitated.

"Well, uh," he started, "I think it leads us to what we most want."

"Wait," the younger said, Bad's words slowly sinking in, "are you saying you _didn't_ want to catch Dream? You didn't want to get George back?"

"Sapnap, please," the older implored, clearly regretting his choice of words. "Of course I wanted to get George back but I was so worried and I just wanted to get you back home."

Sapnap was quiet.

Fires burned nearby and George could even hear lava popping way down below. Across the massive ocean beneath them, a ghast wailed and cried but from the three men there was nothing: George sat there quietly, waiting for either of the other two to reply as Bad anxiously waited for Sapnap's response. The response, however, didn't seem to be coming to the youngest.

"You don't need to worry about me," Sapnap finally said, his voice rough. "Let's just get going."

And with that, the younger turned and started walking back towards where they had come out of the fortress. Bad looked mildly distraught but a simple hand on the shoulder from George pulled him out of his thoughts. He offered the other a tight smile. 

"We better go after him," he said softly, pulling out the compass and starting after the youngest. George sighed, looking down at Flame still curled up in his lap. The small cat meowed up at him, a tone held in the simple sound that he wasn't sure any other creature could replicate. 

"He's gone, Flame," he whispered, gently scratching the patchy cat on the head. "He's gone."

Flame gave a small mew in reply, a single melancholy note, before curling up further. George stared down at them thoughtfully, unwanted tears starting to prick at the corners of his eyes. With a call from Bad, he quickly wiped them away and stood up with Flame in his arms. 

"Alright then," he mumbled, hoisting the cat up onto his armoured shoulders and beginning to follow his friends, "let's go to wherever home is."


	27. Magma

"George!" he yelled. "Take care of Flame for me!"

Sapnap's tight grip slackened ever so slightly and Dream knew that his distraction had been effective. He tore himself away from the other man before letting himself fall off the cliff's edge. He heard a yell from someone - he didn't know exactly who - and quickly twisted his body so he was staring down towards the thing that would save him. 

When he landed on the red lava walker it snorted in surprise, rearing up slightly and starting to quickly stride through the lava it stood in. Dream frantically reached for the hairs sprouting out of the creature's head, dropping his sword in the process and looking back just in time to watch as his perfectly good iron sword melted in the lava.

He sighed, turning forward again and patiently waiting for the creature to carry him to wherever it wanted to go. The lava popped below them, flying up dangerously close to where he sat. Behind him he could hear yells, presumably from any one of the hunters, but they were too faint to understand.

He just ignored them.

The creature carrying him finally made its way onto land, slowing its pace and stepping onto the netherrack (Dream was suddenly thankful that George had taught him some of the basics of the nether, like soulsand and netherrack. At least now he could identify his surroundings better, which was always a plus). Dream quickly slipped off of the red mob, walking further onto land. He was on the outskirts of the same biome type that he and George had been in previously and similar creatures to the red one were grazing on the cyan grass and mushrooms, only deviating from his ex-ride with their purple colouring.

He looked back, curious, and saw the red creature shake itself off, lava droplets flying everywhere. As he watched, the creature seemed to cool off, going from a dusty red to a dull purple in less than a minute. 

"Huh," he said aloud, and as soon as the sound left his mouth he regretted it. The creatures didn't seem to notice, but that wasn't the problem. The sound of his voice, which he had gotten so used to hearing during his time with Flame and eventually George, now sounded foreign to him. In this nether world, where fires blazed eternal and wailing ghasts flew across huge lava lakes, his voice didn't belong. But part of him probably did belong, the destructive, fiery, angry part of him. That's just not what Dream wanted to be anymore, so for now he had to face what he was.

He was alone. 

Again. 

He started walking, a vague direction in mind as he passed under a netherrack archway and further into the strange forest again. There was nowhere else to go.

Admittedly, he had gotten so used to having someone, anyone, by his side that he had never really stopped to consider that it wouldn't last. His friendship with George (could you call it a friendship? Did George consider him a friend?) had always had an expiration date and they had both known that, although he may have gotten more attached than he should have. But Flame. He hadn't expected to be separated from them so quickly.

Were they doing alright? Would the hunters treat them well? Maybe they had already forgotten about him, content with George and the two strangers. That would be better than Flame constantly missing him, he decided. 

The cyan forest was quiet, just as he remembered. But with no set of footsteps besides his own, Dream could now hear the soft buzzing that must have been present before. There was no identifiable source, which just unsettled him all the more. 

"I need to get a weapon," he mumbled to himself, not faltering in his steady pace even as he said it. He was in no rush, really. He had what he needed and lost what he loved. 

"Lost for now," he reminded himself. There really wasn't any point in being too negative right now, he decided. Flame would be okay, George had said so after all, and he had to come across the hunters at some point again to get them back. 

Thinking about Flame and being reunited with them put a little more spring in his step and he continued walking, ignoring the muted, rhythmic thumps he could just barely hear whenever he passed just a little too close to a tree. No point in worrying about something he couldn't understand. 

There were a lot of things he couldn't understand, now that Dream started to think about it, but the one thing repeated over and over in his head was the phrase ' _why did it have to be this way?_ '. 

Dream started walking faster, trying to distract himself. A million thoughts were racing through his head: thoughts about absent parents and loneliness, childhood friends and leaving home, robbing just so he'd be able to live and fire, fire, fire. So much fire. It was consuming him, licking at his mind and painfully pushing tears into his eyes. 

But then he stopped. Reached up, took off the mask, and just breathed. 

The thoughts didn't go away immediately but as he stood there, a foreigner among the cyan foliage, he was able to take it slow. Thoughts went away one by one, sometimes in pairs, and he was left with the one that he knew would stay.

Nick was a hunter, and he was hunting him.

Dream didn't know how to feel about this news. On the one hand, he felt pride digging into him, proud of the kid he had trained and matured with who went out and followed his dreams. But at the same time, there was selfish anger. Anger that he had to fight a man he still cared about, and who probably didn't care about him anymore. 

' _But why is he out here?_ ' Dream thought, suddenly confused. ' _He's still so young._ '

Even if Nick had started training to be a hunter as early as he could have (which, as Dream still remembered from years of his old friend getting excited about it, was sixteen years old), it was still hard to believe that he'd be sent on a dangerous mission so early. The hunters had a habit of sending rookies out on low-stakes hunts, a tradition that relieved some and irritated others, so why would they break it now?

There _had_ to be something else going on.

But here was yet another thing he couldn't understand, and Dream knew that no matter how he tried he wouldn't be able to. Maybe he'd never understand it, and it was no help to worry about it. So, shelving his heavy heart and thoughts about Nick, he put his mask back on and continued further into the forest.

The rest of the walk was long and incredibly dull, but when Dream found himself stepping back onto plain netherrack as the grass receded he felt like it had been too short. He turned, staring back into the forest and seeing nothing that could tell him how far he had gone. Pausing for only a moment longer, he turned around again and stared up the huge piles of grey and black material in front of him. 

The divide between the cyan forest and the ashen piles in front of him was rough, split by a narrow line of netherrack that felt both natural and out of place at the same time. Dream started forward carefully, keeping his eyes on the ground as he gently stepped onto the flaky grey ground to see if it would hold. 

When it did, he continued forward carefully, narrowing his eyes at the fiery magma and small lava pools scattered around. He would have to be cautious, that was for sure, but as he glanced around at the steep netherrack walls he knew that there was nowhere else to go. 

Now that he was standing here he realised simply how massive these piles of ashy grey and stony black materials were. They spiked up and dipped down seemingly at random and they ranged anywhere from smooth to dangerously sharp. He pressed on, not fully knowing where he was going but going nonetheless.

Getting around was starting to be a real pain. Dream pulled himself up onto a dusty grey pile, carefully balancing so he could jump to a more stable looking black chunk and nearly falling into a shallow pool of lava in the process. He dragged himself atop it, climbing a few more steps to stand upon the very top of the black pillar. 

He looked around, seeing the cyan forest behind him but more interested in the great expanse of greys and black around him, shooting up towards the ceiling and falling down into pools of lava. Most interesting of all was the few mobs he could see, all of the same type just different sizes. 

They were massive cube-shaped creatures, coloured a rusty red freckled with deeper reds and a bit of orange and brown. As he watched he saw them jump around, the movement slow and heavy for the larger ones but only slightly weighted for the smaller ones. They seemed similar to an overworld mob he had only heard of, the swamp and cave slimes, but these were clearly something a little different.

Pulling out his crafting table, Dream placed it down and hastily started to make a sword. He wasn't entirely sure whether or not these massive mobs were hostile or not, but when even the smallest ones seemed to be around half his height he didn't want to risk anything.

After speeding through making a handle, the dirty blond fished out the two diamonds he had in his bag, thanking his past self for leaving them alone. Shaping the blade was a bit more difficult than it had been with any material he had worked with before, but he eventually managed to create a sturdy sword that he was pleased with. 

Finished with his crafting, he put his workbench away and started to climb down the rocky pillar as quietly as he could, not wanting to catch the attention of the creatures around him. Deciding to stay as low as he could, he grabbed his diamond pickaxe and readied to start digging a passage whenever he needed to. 

Staying low instead of jumping between the pillar tops was a bit trickier than he first expected: the natural passageways between the valleys were a tight squeeze, often requiring Dream to dig them out further and risk getting doused with hidden lava. The tiny valleys themselves were often filled with the stuff or dotted with both lava and magma blocks that Dream had to carefully make his way around. On top of that, the tall man was constantly on edge due to the sounds of the huge creatures leaping on the peaks above him, although none had jumped down to him just yet.

Although Dream had no way to know where he was going, he had the feeling he was close to getting out. The loud creaks and low booms that he had tried to ignore were starting to quiet, telling him that the end of this strange biome must be close at hand. But after he got out, where to next?

As he wandered through the tight spaces available to him, picking at dusty grey blockades whenever he needed to, his mind drifted back to the hunters. He honestly wasn't sure whether to consider them a threat right now, as it was entirely possible that they thought he was dead after the stunt he had pulled. Of course, if they looked at their compass they would be informed of the truth, but Dream could only hope that they wouldn't.

And if they did decide that he was dead, wouldn't they go for the portal? Did they even remember where it was? Maybe they would be trapped here in the nether forever, stuck wandering the wastes of the nether until they inevitably perished. 

Dream paused for a moment. If the hunters were stuck here, they would almost definitely die, he knew that. But that meant George would die. That meant Flame would die.

And Dream would have killed them. 

The young man shook his head, not wanting to think about that possibility. Hunters were smart, even if they didn't always act like it; they would find a way out. Right now Dream had to focus on getting himself out too, so maybe someday he would be reunited with Flame and they could be happy together again. Maybe he and George could be friends again too, or perhaps that was wishful thinking that didn't belong in this world.

Mining out some of the blackened stone, deep in thought but thinking of nothing at the same time, Dream looked up and saw the empty land in front of him. Excited to escape the biome that he had been stuck in, he put his pick back in a belt loop and quickly walked out, keeping his wits about him enough to stay wary of any hostile mobs that could be nearby.

He was right to be careful, as almost immediately after he had stepped out a few paces the heavy jumping sounds got louder and one of the giant cube-shaped creatures landed near him, shaking the ground and staring at him with glowing orange eyes. He swallowed and gripped his sword tight: this one might just be too big for him to fight.

It readied itself to jump at him and, in a split-second decision, Dream ran away from where he had come out. The slime-like creature jumped and landed behind him, shaking the ground tremendously and causing him to trip and nearly fall. He steadied himself, pushing to run as fast as he could when the mob landed once again behind him. 

Dream was running as fast as he could make himself run, still tired from the fight earlier and having to traverse the perilous landscape of the grey and black biome, but still managing to be quicker than the creature chasing him. Then all of a sudden a powerful leap from the thing behind him sent it too close to him, ripping the ground out from underneath him and causing him to fall to the ground.

He flipped over quickly, holding his sword in front of him and staring up at the giant creature in front of him with pure terror. Slashing at the creature with his sword, he hoped to do some amount of damage and scare it off.

The monster didn't seem bothered by the blow to its front, even as black blood oozed out of the deep cut, and readied itself for a jump that would land it right on top of the man. Dream scrambled to his feet and ran to the side, hoping that the monster wouldn't able to turn so quickly. It worked, and it landed right where he had been lying a moment prior. 

Managing to keep his balance even as the ground below him trembled, Dream ran at the slow-moving creature and began to deliver blow after blow to its side as it turned towards him. It made no noise, no sign that it noticed Dream's efforts at all, but all of a sudden it was gone in a puff of smoke. 

Relief engulfed the young man for only a moment before it was replaced with pure dread as he saw that the monster had split in two, the spawns being noticeably smaller than the original but seeming to have the same goal of crushing him. As they leapt towards him, taking their time as if they believed he wouldn't be able to get away, Dream steadied himself and held his sword tight. 

When one got too close, almost knocking him over when it shook the ground, Dream took his chance. He leapt forward, cutting it across the side and bounding away from the twin monsters. The cut one was bleeding heavily, the gash thick and deep, but it turned to him as if it was as uninjured as the other. Dream took a shaking breath and dashed to the side again to repeat the action.

He circled around the two creatures a few times, slashing at them periodically and quickly learning that whenever he killed one, two more would emerge from the smoke. Eventually, he managed to get up to sixteen tiny monsters, all hopping after him energetically. Thus far, he had only been hit twice: once, he had fallen onto the ground only for one of the large creatures to jump on top of his legs and pin him to the shaking ground (he had just barely gotten out of that one, as the blow he delivered in retaliation ended up being the killing strike), and the other time he had been taken by surprise when a smaller one leapt into his back (something that had definitely hurt and nearly winded him, but wasn't painful enough to do serious damage).

At this size though, the creatures could hardly be considered a threat. In fact, they were somewhat cute. Even if he just stood there, all they could try to do was hop up onto him, staring up with disproportionately large, glowing eyes and only being able to jump up to his waist level. 

"Do you guys wanna come with me?" Dream asked playfully, his voice already a bit hoarse and rough. He bent down and touched one of the creatures, curiosity overwhelming him. It was quite warm and a bit sticky, but not entirely unpleasant. He straightened back up, wading through the tiny creatures and starting off on his way. While the mobs couldn't do any damage to him at this size, they sure were annoying.

Dream started off across the barren netherrack landscape, which was only interrupted by various lava lakes or low-burning fires, and found himself already bored by his surroundings. He knew vaguely where the direction of the portal was, so he began heading there. Glancing back, he saw that most of the cube creatures were following him eagerly, and were actually doing a good job of catching up. He sighed, turning back around. 

The cube monsters dropped something strange, something Dream had never seen the likes of before. Finished with his mini massacre, he crouched to pick up the strangely pale substance, recoiling in disgust when he felt how slimy it was. Looking at his hand, he saw that some of the cream had come off, a mix of sickly yellows and greens, and was starting to harden on his fingers. He quickly wiped it off, looking at the rest of the cream with interest and deciding to take it with him. 

Remembering that his pack was full, Dream started digging through it. When a few stray sticks, string, and the blocks that he had recently mined lay abandoned on the ground, with the seven pieces of mob loot stowed safely in his pack, the masked man set off again. He had to find the portal. 

He just hoped the hunters wouldn't get there at the same time.


	28. Netherrack

No one was saying anything. No one had said a single word since they had started walking back and it was making Bad nervous. Of course, he was also nervous that they had decided to climb up onto the roof of the fortress (even though it was probably, and so far had been, safer than walking back through the hallways), but the silence by itself still made him deeply uncomfortable. It's not like the three hunters had always been talking before, but this time it was different. This time it felt like the other two were willing each other, and him, into silence.

And Bad couldn't do anything about it.

So since silence was there silence stayed, carried by all three hunters as they crossed the fortress roof. Bad was gradually starting to appreciate how enormous this fortress really was, even though it hadn't seemed like so much when they had run through it earlier.

Undisturbed by the various clankings and airy breaths that could sporadically be heard from below, the three hunters eventually found themselves at the end. Bad took a quick look at the compass to confirm they were headed in the right direction before looking back to the two hunters in front of him. Neither of them met his eyes, as Sapnap faced away to stare down at the lava ocean far below and George seemed more than content with staring at the ground. Flame was digging into the reachable fabric of George's shirt, seemingly readying themselves for a drop.

"Alright," the oldest hunter said, wincing at how foreign the sound felt. Sapnap noticeably tensed but George looked up to finally connect brown eyes with hazel, comforting Bad in the strangest way. "We should go down."

Sapnap, upon hearing these words, briskly made his way to the edge and jumped down. There was a barely audible "oomf" when the youngest landed, something that only added to Bad's anxiety as he found himself on the roof's edge looking down at the ground below. It must have been only around twenty feet or so but to him, it may as well have been a hundred. He watched in dismay as the hunter next to him gripped the edge and swung his legs over before dropping to the floor below.

"C'mon Bad, it's not too high," George called up, stepping away from the wall. Three pairs of eyes were trained on him, only making the man on the roof even more anxious. 

"I know, I know," he replied, his voice a little higher and more strained than normal. He stared at the ground below, watching as it seemed to shrink away from him even further. Looking back to the shortest of the group, he shouted down, "what if you guys build up a staircase? It'll be a lot faster!"

Before George could reply Sapnap pulled out some stray cobblestone, walking over to the fortress wall and starting to construct a rough staircase. When he got close to where Bad stood on the roof, he looked up into hazel eyes, silently asking if it was good enough. At this point, already mildly embarrassed and tired, Bad pushed himself forward and dropped down to the cobble. 

He landed in a crouch, standing up with a shaking breath. It really hadn't been that far, only about five feet, but for some reason his brain had forcibly pushed that fact out when he was looking down at it. He gave Sapnap a tight smile before following the younger down the rough stairs. 

"Sorry, guys," the eldest started as soon as they met up with George. "I just...I don't know."

"Hey, Bad," George said softly. His voice was what Bad could only assume was George's attempt at comforting, and it really wasn't half bad. "It's okay, we get it."

"I know, it's just," Bad didn't know exactly what it was, "like, I can get up places just fine. But when it comes to coming down, everything seems so far away, you know?"

They had started walking at this point, Sapnap in front with Bad and George side by side behind him. The youngest was picking out the way down, noticeably more careful than he would have been usually. George hummed and nodded, pulling Flame down from their perch on his shoulders and holding them like they were an infant. They seemed more than happy with this new arrangement.

"Yeah, Bad, that's okay," the other said, looking to the taller. His brown eyes were warm but noticeably tired. Was George tired of him? "We all have our fears. You don't have to apologise for it."

The older hummed. Was he really afraid of heights? He had no problems getting up into high places, and sometimes jumping down was barely even a problem. But...those were only in high-stakes situations, right? When one of his friends could get hurt.

He looked between the two men before focusing his gaze on the ground. He really did worry about them a lot, didn't he? Really, he shouldn't, they were both capable hunters. Both capable people. If he really cared about them, he'd trust them to keep themselves safe. 

"George, what are you afraid of?" he asked suddenly, apparently surprising the other man. The brunet thought for a moment, staring at the ground as he continued forward.

"A lot of things, Bad," the other replied before pulling his head up with a soft smile. "I'm not brave like you."

"I'm not that brave, George," the taller said with amusement, hopping down a small netherrack shelf. "Besides, you did well with Dream. I would have been terrified."

George hummed quietly. It sounded much more solemn than Bad expected. "It got better with time."

' _I'm sure it did,_ ' Bad thought. He didn't suspect George of being a traitor, per se, but he also couldn't say with confidence that the younger hadn't helped the masked outlaw one way or another. Either way, the older trusted that the man next to him had remained his friend through it all. 

"Can you give me any specifics of what you're scared of, though?" the eldest persisted. 

"You wanna scare me or something, Bad?" George asked playfully. The addressed gave a short laugh and shook his head. 

"No, I just," he fiddled with the end of his sleeve. "I dunno."

George nodded thoughtfully, giving a short hum and petting Flame. The patchy cat seemed delighted with the spontaneously given attention. 

"Well," George said slowly. They walked in silence for a brief moment while the younger brunet continued to think. Sapnap remained in the front, seemingly a bit stiffer than before. "I'm scared of lava."

"Awh, George," Bad jokingly whined. "Everyone's scared of that!"

The other giggled gently and shrugged, "you asked me what I'm scared of!"

Bad rolled his eyes, "you know that's not what I meant."

"Fine, fine," George answered. "I'm afraid of the ocean."

"Really?" Bad asked. It wasn't entirely surprising, he supposed, but at the same time he wouldn't have expected it. George gave a simple nod. "Huh. Maybe I'll have to take you swimming or boating sometime to get over that."

The foreigner grinned and shook his head, "that's not how it works, Bad, it's irrational. I've been on boats before, duh. As long as they're big and I don't think about the ocean too much, I'll mostly be okay."

"Aha," the other said. "So it's like my 'fear of heights', or whatever I'm scared of."

George shrugged.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Bad. You'll figure it out."

"Alright." Bad smiled. "Thanks, George."

The brunet smiled back, "of course."

They walked a bit further in comfortable silence before George spoke again, a jokingly devious look on his face.

"You know, if you take me swimming, it's only fair that we try to get an elytra and help you get over your fear of heights."

"Elytra?" It sounded vaguely familiar. "What's that?"

"It's something from the End," George replied. He said that as if you could get things from the End any day of the week. "Let's you glide through the air, or so I've heard."

"Muffins, George, we're not going to the End," Bad said seriously. "The enderpeople come from there, it's insanely dangerous."

George sighed and turned away, "yeah Bad, I know. It was a joke."

"I know, I know, but," Bad let out a breath gently, "I'm just so worried all the time. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I shouldn't have brought it up, really," George replied. After that, the whole group fell into silence, only interrupted by the purring from Flame whenever the shortest hunter pet them. Soon, they were at the level of the giant lava pools.

"Can we take a break, please," Sapnap pleaded. It was the first time he'd spoken in a while and his voice was a bit hoarse. Avoiding George's eyes, the youngest looked to Bad. He looked exhausted. 

"I think we should probably keep going, the longer we stay here the more in danger we are," George voiced. Bad was inclined to agree with him, but they couldn't just force Sapnap to follow along.

"I can carry you?" the eldest suggested. Sapnap looked to be thinking about it, dark eyes shifting to the left. "That way we can keep going but you can rest."

"Okay," the youngest agreed. "I'm gonna take my sweater off first, though, I don't want to go back all sweaty like this."

"That's a good idea, yeah," Bad said. 

While Sapnap readjusted his own clothing, Bad pulled off another layer. He had taken his jacket off a while ago, but had kept a thin long-sleeved shirt underneath to attach his armour to. As he removed the iron segments, he tossed them carelessly into his open bag. The shirt followed soon after, leaving him in a plain, dark grey t-shirt. Sapnap looked up at him, dropping his sweater into his burnt orange satchel. 

"Gods, how much clothing do you have?" Sapnap asked in disbelief. Bad stuck his tongue out childishly, "not my fault you're gonna be underprepared for the freezing Death."

"Yeah, it kinda is, _captain_ ," the other replied. His tone was teasing, but his words reminded Bad of how they ended up here. This wasn't a fun adventure with friends, this was a manhunt that Bad was supposed to be leading. Of course, the title of captain (if that's what it had even been) had been disregarded soon after they had been forced out to go after Dream with minimal supplies. Survival with friends had no rules, after all. But Bad had never quite forgotten that he was the one responsible for all of them, even though he had forgotten his title. 

"Bad?" Sapnap said the other's name. The older jolted slightly; he must have spaced out for a little too long. He gave the other a smile, saying, "I'm good, man."

"Alright, now can you start carrying me? I feel like I'm about to fall over," Sapnap continued. His legs were starting to shake slightly, so Bad nodded and walked over. After a tiny bit of struggle with getting Sapnap on top of the other's back, they achieved the piggyback position. Sapnap felt lighter than he should have been. 

Handing the compass up to Sapnap and thinking of the milk they needed to get, Bad turned to George and saw that he had slipped out of his armour. In addition, his goggles were now firmly planted on his face. 

"Out of space?" Bad asked. George shrugged, opening his bag slightly. Flame peeked out, meowing softly at the eldest hunter, who grinned with delight. 

"Also it's just good protection. What if the lava suddenly decides it needs to find a new home in my eyes?" George joked dryly, tapping his goggles. "I'll be ready."

"Fair enough, I guess," Bad replied, feeling Sapnap tap on his shoulder. He wanted to get going. "Anyway, let's go."

Following the direction the compass had been pointing when he last checked, the group set off. George soon overtook the other man, staying in the front and keeping tabs on their surroundings. From Sapnap's occasional shuffling, Bad assumed that the youngest had taken on the responsibility of keeping an eye on the things behind them.

"So, Sapnap," Bad started. Now maybe wasn't the best time for this conversation, with the elder's words strained by both the physical burden that was Sapnap and the metaphorical one that was...also Sapnap. But he was doing it anyway. "How are you doing?"

"Uh." Sapnap's voice quieted as he turned his head to look behind them. "I'm doing okay?"

"Yeah?" the older replied. "No big revelations or anything?"

Sapnap laughed shortly, the laugh itself being a rough, dry thing. Other than that, he said nothing. 

"You can talk to me, Sapnap. I hope you know that," Bad said quietly, adjusting Sapnap's position on his back. The other stayed silent. Eventually, the younger man relaxed, curling up to let his evenly tanned arms hang down and resting his head on the older's shoulder. 

Bad hadn't even noticed how stiff the younger had been.

"I know I can," Sapnap replied. His voice was soft, almost timid in its delivery. Bad evened his pace, letting his heels roll as he followed George. "How have you been doing, Bad?"

It was a question Bad hadn't been entirely expecting. Still, he got a reply out without great pause: "I'm doing okay, Sapnap. I'm glad we got George and that we're getting out of here."

Sapnap hummed a pleasant note, a quiet sound that breached Bad through his shoulder and echoed through his body. It was comforting, in a way. 

"Compass?" Bad asked hastily when the other didn't reply. Sapnap shuffled, handing the instrument down and letting the older check their direction. They hadn't deviated very much yet, simply walking across the netherrack bridge that rose out of the lava, so he wasn't surprised to find that they were right on course.

After handing the compass back up to Sapnap, Bad continued on in silence. Maybe his friend would eventually say something, but if he didn't Bad would try to prompt him again.

He didn't. 

"So," Bad began. His voice was hushed and low, and he felt Sapnap tense. "Who do you think Dream is?"

"Some guy, why?" 

"Sapnap," the other spoke, mildly exasperated. He didn't want to force Sapnap to say anything he wasn't comfortable with, but he did want to know why the other was being more distant than usual. "I just want to know why you're acting different."

"I'm not acting different," the younger argued. Bad simply rolled his eyes; Sapnap's stubbornness hadn't changed, at the very least.

"You are," Bad asserted. It was a bit more firm than he preferred to be with friends, but he tried to make up for it with a gentle voice. "Why?"

Sapnap sighed and didn't say anything, instead tightening his arms around Bad. 

The eldest was patient. George looked back, a question in his eyes as he checked if they were still going in the right direction. Bad nodded, receiving a nod back before the other brunet turned back around. The air was hot and thick, and lava bubbled nearby, but Sapnap had yet to say something.

"I think I know Dream." Bad stayed quiet. "Or, well, knew him. I obviously don't anymore."

The oldest hummed in understanding. 

"I don't know, it's just," Sapnap curled up a little further, pulling himself closer to Bad as if trying to comfort himself, "so weird to think that I knew someone who went on to do awful, awful things, you know? Hell, I was probably even good friends with him."

"Yeah, that's gotta be a lot to process," Bad said kindly. He felt Sapnap nod shortly. 

"And now I feel bad for getting so mad at George," the younger continued, his voice weak and brittle as if he was about to break. "I really missed him, and now I might lose him again because I'm just that fucking stupid."

Ignoring the expletive, Bad looked up from the ground to look at the brunet ahead of them. He was completely out of range to hear Sapnap's quiet, fragile voice.

"I don't think you're going to lose him, Pandas," Bad reassured. "George might be a bit hot-headed sometimes, like you, but I'm sure he'll understand."

The dark-haired man he was carrying snorted, replying, "maybe you're right."

"Just, apologise and explain to him," the older appealed, "please."

"Mm." Sapnap's hum was short, resting in the air as he thought. "What's he going to think about me possibly knowing Dream, though? Won't he hate me?"

"Sapnap," Bad sighed, "you have to remember, George and I don't have such personal connections to Dream."

"Oh," the other replied, "yeah. I forgot, sorry."

"It's fine, it's fine. Just, George has spent the most time with _Dream_ , the one we have all heard of. You'd be able to tell how much he's changed from whoever you used to know, but George only knows him for who he is now."

"Not a very good showing of the green man's character, I'd say," Sapnap replied dryly.

"I wasn't done," Bad said gently. "I just think that George didn't entirely hate who he met."

"Gods, Bad," the younger replied, mild frustration in his voice. "You're so vague sometimes."

"Well I don't know everything, so I can't speak in absolutes," the older hunter pointed out. He didn't like to think of all the things he knew. It was too much for someone like him. "This is only what I'm guessing."

"Well, how are you so good at guessing?" Sapnap pressed. "The hoodie, George's wound. Probably more things I don't remember."

"You get good at it, with my experience," Bad replied, his tone suddenly serious. Sapnap seemed to pick up on it and the eldest quickly changed his attitude, saying, "it does help if you actually pay attention to things, though."

Sapnap only hummed, seemingly marking the end of the conversation. Bad asked for the compass again, checking it and redirecting the group to the side. Soon, they started climbing. 

"The portal's gotta be close," George called to them. "This seems familiar."

"Sounds good!" Bad yelled back. At this point, Sapnap was off his back and walking next to him. The oldest ignored his own tired legs.

"Hey, Bad," Sapnap said randomly. The brunet looked at him, seeing the focused look on his face. "You said you're good at guessing, right?"

The other hunter shrugged, "sometimes."

"What's your guess about Dream?"

"I could ask you the same question," Bad replied. His tone wasn't accusatory, instead giving him the air of just pointing something out. Sapnap fell silent regardless.

"But," the older continued, sighing gently, "I think you already know my guess about him."

"That he's not as bad a person as I think," Sapnap stated. The other nodded, keeping a careful eye on how the younger would react. Dark eyes shifted to the left. 

"I don't know, Bad, maybe you know something I don't but it just doesn't seem possible," the other said, seemingly a bit frustrated. The hazel-eyed simply hummed. 

There was nothing else to say.

"Hey George, are we getting close?" Sapnap yelled up. The brunet ahead halted and turned back to look at them, a look of mild surprise on his face.

"Yeah, I think we're close," he shouted back. Sapnap and Bad continued to walk towards him, and George waited until the three could walk side by side. 

"I think this is it right here," Bad said, pointing at a large mound of netherrack. Next to it, nearly hidden, was a familiar-looking tunnel. They pressed on, finding that it was, in fact, the tunnel they were looking for. The still unseen portal's purple glow illuminated the ravine at the end. 

They were almost out. 


	29. Some Stuff I Wanna Talk About

This is not a chapter, I'll try to make it as quick as possible:

 _The Cheating Scandal Thing:_ yeah this shit fucked me up for a bit. I was really going back and forth on whether or not I wanted to support and write about someone who basically undermined the effort put into speedrunning and then lied about cheating (if you don't believe he cheated, that's your right, but after watching several videos about it by people who are speedrunners, there's no doubt in my mind). Dream is a good speedrunner, it really sucks that he decided to cheat. But eventually I reached the conclusion that I don't watch him for his speedruns, I watch him for his content that I still find entertaining. I'm going to continue this story unless one of the guys does something indefensible. I don't know if he's released a further statement on Twitter or some shit, but if not I hope he comes forward. If he is somehow innocent, awesome, and I will correct myself accordingly. I just don't think it's likely, unfortunately. That's all, I figured it was important for me to address as someone who makes content involving him. 

Edit on 08/01/2021: A lot of people have left comments about this (which is to be expected since I didn't clarify very well), but yes, I have watched the DreamXD video. It was my first proper introduction to the drama and since it confused me a fair amount of the time (I don't do well with advanced maths and big numbers) and I also just wanted to believe Dream, I initially thought he must be innocent. After looking into the situation more, however, and finding videos that made things more clear, I reached the conclusion that he must have cheated in some way. If you agree with me, that's fine, and if you don't that's fine too. I'm not looking to change your opinion, I simply wanted to make mine known because this whole thing has been weighing on me for a little while. I find Dream's content entertaining, he seems like a decent person, and I am still planning on continuing this story once I have the motivation and time. That is all. 

_My Updating Schedule:_ it's pretty fucked not gonna lie. I've been having both writer's block and some pretty shit stuff going on in my life. I don't really wanna talk too much about it but just know that the holidays with my family is always bad for me, I'm having some friendship problems, and my insomnia and depression are getting much worse. Also school has started back up (distance learning, still), so that's another thing. So yeah, I'll try my best to update when I can. No one has been commenting much about it, which I appreciate. Sorry about the inconsistent updates, though.

 _The Sequel:_ I have talked in a few comments about wanting to make a sequel to this story. I have a good idea of generally what will happen, and have been trying to set it up subtly in this story. However, depending on what happens and how long this takes, the sequel may not happen. Either way I'll try to make sure this is a suitable standalone. 

I think that's all I wanted to talk about. I wanted to save this until after I posted the next chapter, but I decided that it might be best to just address it now. That is all for now, thanks for reading. 

_This was originally posted on 06/01/2021, in case I retract something or elaborate further._


	30. Obsidian

Netherrack was starting to blend together, the many shades of red merging to create one dirty mess. Dream was stumbling across the muddy-looking terrain, eyes trained on something that wasn't red. Something that was a dark shade of purple, with lighter purples, blue, and gold mixed in for good measure. 

He had been walking for what felt like hours, and the fatigue combined with the heat was starting to mess with his head. At this point, he couldn't tell if he was going in the direction of the portal that had brought him here, but maybe it didn't matter. As long as he had enough obsidian in his bag, this ruined portal would be his ticket out. 

Getting out his diamond pickaxe, the tall man forced himself to continue towards the boxy figure. It was perched on a small netherrack peninsula, with the lava below illuminating in a sinister way. If he was more composed, Dream might have been amused at how evil such an unassuming structure could look, but in his current state the only thing on his mind was getting to it. Then, he'd be able to eat. Then, he'd be able to get out of the nether for good.

Finally there, Dream immediately dropped to the ground. With the portal's shadow cast onto him, the young man started digging through his satchel desperately. His hand finally grasped something flaky and cold and he pulled it out, revealing a cooked steak that he hastily devoured. Not quite satisfied, he reached back in and quickly found another that went much the same way. He definitely should have eaten earlier, but what were goals without rewards?

Feeling his head starting to clear up, the dirty blond leaned back against the netherrack with a sigh. His eyes slipped shut and he simply sat there, listening to the gentle crackling of fire and the cheery pops of lava nearby. 

He thought that he'd like it a lot better. Of course, the overworld was good, and he had known that from the start. But here, where fire burned eternally and there were no laws to break? Where anarchy was rampant but the inhabitants seemed content? It had seemed like a dream. 

But of course, one has to wake up eventually.

Standing up and feeling youthful strength rush back into him, Dream stepped towards the portal. Pick in hand, he started to mine away at the ruined, crying obsidian. After filling in the gaps with the obsidian he had kept in his pack and pulling out his flint and steel, the blond took one last look at the realm he was leaving behind. He nodded, a simple goodbye if anything, before turning back.

The flint and steel clashed together, sparking the portal's purple glow around him. The floor started to swim and there was a strong, burning smell.

Then everything went dark.

He felt like he was being stretched to an impossible degree, his body contorting and pulling in obedience to an unseen force. It was painful, but at the same time incredibly rejuvenating in the strangest way. The fiery heat of the nether subsided, replaced by something refreshing and cool. The burning continued, however, held within his bones that protested as he was pulled unbelievably far. 

And then it was over. 

Panting hard, he stumbled out of the portal and grabbed at his head. As clarity touched his vision, Dream finally saw cool grey stone below him. It rushed towards him as he fell to his knees, clutching his head in pain. 

When the ache in his head had ebbed away, Dream took a chance to look around him. He was in a long cave, the only light besides the portal behind him coming from lava that was just barely in view at the end. He stood, looking in both directions before heading towards the way that looked to be heading up.

After minutes of stumbling around in the dark cave system, aided ever so slightly by a weakly burning torch, Dream was rewarded when he could finally see pale light seeping in. He rushed towards the entrance of the cave, eager to get out once and for all, but paused when he saw something white on the floor.

It was snowing.

Curious, Dream carefully walked to the overhanging roof of the cave and looked up into the grey sky. Delicate snowflakes fell from above, carried by a biting wind that was too cold to be appropriate for Harvest.

' _How long was I in the nether?_ ' Dream wondered. He hastily opened his pack, pulling out the blue hoodie inside and putting it on. Once the arrangement was comfortable, he bent down to shove his pants into his socks. That would keep the snow out.

Pulling himself up out of the cave, Dream found himself standing in an oddly familiar plains biome. Sure, there was snow covering the once green grass, but if he stepped a little more in this direction he should be able to see the desert.

And there it was.

Curiosity driving him, Dream walked towards the desert. The sand was not covered in snow, but as he stepped into the new biome he could tell that the season of Death had a chilling effect here too. He continued on, looking for the shallow cave that his original portal was tucked into.

He didn't know exactly why he was looking. The hunters could be out any minute, or maybe they were already back. The only reason he could give was that he wanted to see Flame as soon as possible. If the hunters weren't there, he could lie in wait and catch them by surprise.

"What?!" he heard someone exclaim, freezing Dream where he stood. He snapped his head towards the sound, making eye contact with the hunter standing a short distance away in a pit that he hadn't noticed yet.

 _Nick_.

"What is it?" someone else, probably Bad, asked. The other hunter's head appeared and his mouth dropped open, staring at Dream as if he were some sort of fantastical creature. Shifting his eyes between the two men, Dream was urging himself to just move.

But he couldn't.

The two hunters looking at him seemed to be stuck in place as well, only able to stare at him in disbelief and, in Nick's case, increasing anger. And then someone else stepped up, a completely different emotion on his face. 

It was George, and he looked _terrified_.

Only sneaking one last look to check if Flame was with them and alright, Dream turned and ran. 

"Dream!" Nick - or should it be Sapnap? - screamed. The blond could barely hear him, his heart thumping in his ears as he tried to keep himself from tripping on any dips in the ground. Sapnap sounded quite ready to kill him, and if Dream was being honest he wasn't really in the mood for a fight. Having eaten so recently, though, he was pretty sure he could outrun the younger. 

"Sapnap, wait!" Bad shrieked, telling the tallest that Sapnap had recklessly started after him. 

Kicking up cold sand with every quick step he took, Dream sprinted away as fast as he could. Without hesitation Dream charged back into the plains biome, aiming for the jungle. Hopefully he'd be able to lose them all in there.

Dream could hear the hunters behind him yelling, getting closer and closer each time. He could only hear two voices now, but after a familiar-sounding scream there was only one. Nick. He was still chasing him. Taunting him.

Dream crashed through the jungle foliage, nearly tripping on a gnarly root that had twisted right out of the ground. As he pressed on, ripping through clumps of drying leaves and catching on hanging vines, he could hear the younger cursing behind him. 

Getting through here wasn't easy for either of them.

Going into the jungle was a terrible decision, as Dream was quickly starting to realise. Sure, there wasn't any snow anymore, and the man chasing him was clearly having a tough time, but as the hunted continued running his clothes snagged on branches that shouldn't have been there, his feet sank into shallow muddy puddles that soaked his shoes, and he was constantly having to avoid vines that threatened to grab him and never let go. 

And then all of a sudden, a root grabbed at his leg and he fell. 

Trying to pick himself up from the ground, Dream was rudely interrupted when someone leapt onto him from behind. Yelling loudly in pain, he attempted twisting the hunter off, wriggling around on the dirty ground to no avail.

"I got you, Dream," Nick panted from on top of him. "I fucking got you."

"Oh wow, good for you," Dream replied dryly. His old friend seemed to ignore what he said.

"It's just me and you," he continued. "Me and you."

"Yeah?" the taller answered. His mind was going a mile a minute, thoughts rushing through it as he tried to think of how to get out here. "Where are your friends, Nick?"

"Don't call me that," the other spat. "And they're...um..."

"Where are they?" Dream repeated, noticing that he had found something. "It sounded like something bad happened to them."

"Stop it." Sapnap still sounded angry, but there was a more frantic note to his voice. "I'm sure they're fine, you're just trying to distract me."

"What if they get hurt?" Dream asked, looking towards the darkening sky through the green canopy above. "What if they die? Won't that be on your hands?"

"Look who's talking." 

"Nick, look," the older started with a sigh, feeling the other tense at the name, "how about I play nice, and we go get your friends?"

"I don't care about you playing nice," Nick scoffed. "I can take you on."

"Uh huh," Dream replied, rolling his eyes at the other's stubbornness. He suddenly pushed himself up, taking the other off guard and knocking him to the floor. Now up on his feet, Dream stared down at the younger, angry dark eyes meeting green ones through the mask. "You're doing a great job."

"Shut up." Nick's voice was quieter, more brittle. More worried. Dream decided to move things along quickly.

"Come on, let's go get your friends. If they're not here yet they could be hurt," he stated, extending a hand towards the hunter. The other simply glared at it with watery eyes. 

"Why do you care?" Sapnap demanded, wiping at his eyes and standing up by himself, trembling slightly. It really hadn't been that long since they had seen each other, but the younger man somehow already looked weaker. Dream started to reply before faltering. 

"Well," he started again, "I just...don't want you to be lonely?"

What was he saying?

Nick looked just as confused as Dream would have expected, "you don't want me to be lonely? What is that supposed to mean?"

"Don't worry about it too much," the taller replied, walking back in the direction they had come from. "Let's just get them."

And, almost defying Dream's expectations, Sapnap followed without another word.

The walk back through the jungle was quiet and uneventful, but there was a sense of urgency still hanging in the air. Dream allowed Sapnap to walk behind him, trusting that even if the other man tried to attack him he'd be able to shake him off. Soon enough, the jungle yielded and showed them the snowy plains that they had escaped from.

"Wait, fuck," Sapnap said as Dream started to step out. Curiosity piqued, the taller turned and saw that the shivering younger was digging through his pack. He pulled out a dark sweater, putting it on quickly. 

"You had to stop me for that?" Dream asked, mildly amused. Sapnap shot him another glare, pushing past him and stepping into the snow, "I'm not letting you get anywhere near my friends if I'm not there."

"Oh yeah, like you're a big threat to me right now," the other shot back. The other tensed and for a moment the outlaw thought he might have stepped too far, but Sapnap simply continued into the snow. 

Dream soon overtook him, seeing a dip in the snow and making for it. There he found a snow-dusted George, shivering where he had fallen and curled around something. His eyes opened, recognition and mild panic flitting through them when they latched upon the smiling white mask. Another chill ran through the brunet, forcing his mouth closed after he tried to say something and making him curl up further. 

"Gods, George, are you okay?" Dream mumbled, reaching down to grab the shorter and hoisting him up. The other was limp, with one foot twisted at an uncomfortable angle, and he only managed to weakly cling to the taller with one arm while faithfully cradling the small cat that he had been curled around in the other. Flame meowed quietly at Dream, shivering slightly, and even through his worry Dream couldn't help but be delighted that he had been reunited with both Flame and George.

"Nick!" he yelled, turning to look towards the other man. Sapnap was struggling to get through the snow, somehow managing to step into every snow-covered hole in the plains, but his head shot up with the name. Seeing George, the younger did his best to make his way over as fast as possible.

"Take him to the jungle," Dream said, handing George over to the shorter. While Sapnap seemed to struggle under the sudden weight, he still did his best to carry George as comfortably as possible while shooting the taller a glare.

"Don't tell me what to do," he grumbled, turning around and heading for the jungle anyway. Dream paid him no mind, turning his back to the jungle and following the footsteps that had been made in the snow. With every minute, the snow seemed to get even deeper. 

He found the last hunter soon enough, laying face down in the snow and seemingly resigned to his fate. With a sigh, Dream took a quick look at the nearly completely dark sky before reaching down and picking the brunet up easily. The other made no movement to indicate that he noticed at all.

"What the fuck?" Sapnap immediately said once Dream had come back with his friend's limp body. The "camp" they had set up was right on the edge of the jungle, shielded by a few shrubs and a short tree. George was already sitting near the newly constructed fire, nursing his injured ankle, with Flame sleeping next to him. 

"He was like this when I found him," Dream replied calmly, setting Bad down on the ground carefully. Sapnap seemed unsatisfied with this answer, his angry dark eyes flicking between his motionless friend and the masked man who had brought him back. "He's not dead."

"If he is, you're next," Sapnap threatened, rushing over to Bad's side and checking his vital signs. Once confirming that his friend was, in fact, not dead, he set out to check for any serious injuries. 

"You really care about him, huh?" Dream asked quietly. He wasn't sure exactly why he spoke up, but something in the way Sapnap would so readily defend and avenge his friends was so painfully familiar. The other man shot him another glare. 

"Of course I do," he answered roughly, standing up and going to get something from his satchel. "It's not something that I'd expect you to understand."

Dream ignored his comment. "How long have you guys been friends?"

Sapnap paused, giving Dream an odd look. Even George, sitting in Dream's lower peripheral, seemed confused about where Dream was taking this conversation. 

"What's it to you?" the dark-haired man replied reflexively, before offering a genuine answer almost immediately after, "less than a year, I think. We met in one of the advanced hunter classes where experienced hunters helped the trainees practise an-"

He stopped, narrowing his eyes at Dream. "Well, you don't need to know all that."

Dream nodded thoughtfully, sitting down on one of the logs situated around the fire. "What about you and George then?"

After seeing the suspicious look on Sapnap's face the taller shrugged, continuing, "I can just ask him. You'd tell me, wouldn't you, George?"

George seemed absolutely mortified to have been dragged into this conversation, stammering out an awkward "maybe?" before taking an extreme interest in a small stick that had tangled itself into Flame's fur. 

"George and I have been friends since we got assigned to a hunt together," Sapnap said flatly. "The hunt for you."

Dream smiled tightly. "Well, you finally found me."

The younger looked away, staring into the fire. His look was puzzling, something entirely devoid of anything but at the same time filled with every thought he had ever had. Not many, evidently.

"How long are you staying with us?" Sapnap asked quietly after a moment of silence. It sounded almost like an invitation, but Dream brushed that away as an impossibility. This was still a man who wanted him dead or in prison for life, after all.

"As long as I need to, I guess," the dirty blond replied awkwardly, staring into the fire as well. It was so pretty, prettier than he remembered. Maybe it was because this fire was surrounded by earthy greens and browns instead of the dull reds down below. "Or as long as you want me to."

"If it was up to me, you'd either be gone already or staying with us until we got the chance to turn you in," the other spat. 

"And why isn't it up to you?" Dream asked with amusement. The other sighed, lifting his head to look at the leafy canopy above them. He looked tired. Maybe he was even sick, but Dream didn't know with what.

"It could be." It was an evasive answer. One that told Dream nothing other than the fact that maybe Sapnap wasn't so deadset on his suffering after all. Maybe it was a change of heart, maybe it was a commitment to team decisions, or maybe Sapnap took more thrill in the hunt than the capture. Dream didn't know.

"Alright," Dream said, looking over to Flame. George's hand rested on their side, his thumb rubbing small, easy circles into the white fur there. Both of them were now lightly sleeping, creating a startling peaceful picture in the midst of all the chaos in their lives.

' _I'd like to have that sort of peace someday,_ ' Dream thought ruefully, turning his head back to stare into the fire. If he ever got it, it would take a long time to get to. And then there was the question of if he even deserved it, a question that would have an inevitable answer of "no". 

He frowned, shaking his head lightly, before taking a calming breath.

"I'll stay for a little while." 


	31. Jungle

Sapnap didn't know what he was doing. 

Letting Dream help him get George and Bad out of the snow was one thing, but now he had let him spend the whole night with them with plans to let him stay longer. Was he a fool? Was he just playing into Dream's plan, whatever it was? He could tell himself that it was all for keeping Dream close, close so when they finally got back to somewhere with authority they could turn him in. But somewhere inside him, there was a deeper reason. He just wasn't entirely sure what it was yet.

It was day already, but Bad was still asleep. He had woken up sometime during the night, immediately getting upset that Sapnap had stayed up for him before the younger had shoved food into his face so he didn't faint again. In between bites of the cold steak, he had asked about Dream, who had been sleeping right across the dying fire from him with his mask still firmly on. Sapnap hadn't thought to take it off.

"He's staying?"

"Yeah, if that's alright with you," Sapnap had answered. Bad had given him a curious look before shrugging.

"As long as you trust him."

"He can't hurt us. I made sure to take all his weapons after he fell asleep." Sapnap had whispered this part, not entirely confident that Dream wasn't listening.

"If that's what you're worried about."

"Why would I not be?"

Bad had sighed in that infuriating way that Sapnap had gotten so used to recently. "I think you already know what I think of Dream and hurting us."

"I don't trust him."

"You trust him enough to let him stay."

That had been the end of the conversation. Sapnap had leaned back against the jungle wood log, staring up at the swaying branches and leaves above them, and let Bad fall back asleep without another word. Soon enough he had fallen asleep too, waking up more tired than he had been the previous day. 

"George, can you pass me those sticks?" he asked dully. The brunet obliged, looking at Sapnap with a concerned look.

"You feeling okay?" he questioned, peering into Sapnap's face. The younger shrugged.

"I'm feeling fine," he lied. His fingers clumsily wrapped around the sticks and string he had placed on the work table, beginning the tedious task of crafting. 

"What are you making?" George asked, moving on hesitantly. 

"A bow," the dark-haired replied stiffly. 

"For who?"

"You."

"Oh," George answered awkwardly, pulling his legs into a crisscross and leaning back against the rock behind him. "Thank you."

Sapnap hummed, his eyes darting up at movement in front of him. Dream was still leaning back on the towering tree he had fallen asleep against, now petting Flame who had wandered over after he had coaxed them away from George with some food.

"You know, George, sometimes it feels like Flame likes you better than me." Dream laughed, scratching Flame on the head to the small cat's delight. George scoffed, moving on quickly from his awkward conversation with Sapnap.

"That's cause they do," the brunet said with no small amount of pride. The other man fake pouted, jokingly scolding Flame with an "after all I've done for you?!" that they seemed utterly unaffected by. 

"Dream, how long are you planning on staying with us?" George asked, leaning forward and putting his head in his palm. The other stiffened.

"Did you not hear our conversation last night?" He sounded almost nervous. Sapnap grimaced, nearly snapping the string he was pulling on. "I'm staying for a little while. When I want to leave, I can."

"That's not what we agreed on," Sapnap said coldly. His eyes met those of a white mask, a small frown on the face underneath.

"What did we agree on, then?"

Sapnap shrugged, already feeling overwhelmingly tired. "Nothing."

"Then what's the problem?" Dream asked. He didn't sound confused, he sounded more threatening than anything. 

"Don't talk to me like that," Sapnap replied, breaking the string by accident. He sighed, getting another one from his bag. "You can't leave whenever you want."

"Oh yeah? And what if I left right now? Who would stop me?"

"George could," the shorter replied wearily. Dream barked a short laugh.

"I could take on George any day."

"Okay, then I'll stop you," Sapnap replied, looking up and glaring at the other. The dirty blond paused, seeming to think about it. 

"Maybe," Dream conceded. He sounded like Bad when he knew something Sapnap didn't. It was unpleasant. "I'm not looking to leave anyway."

"Oh, how fortunate. What would we do without you? You're essential to the team," Sapnap said dryly. He didn't look up at him, but he could tell that Dream was grinning.

"Yeah, the Dream Team," he proclaimed with a ridiculous amount of delight. Despite himself, Sapnap snorted. 

"If anyone were to name us, it would be Bad," he decided. "He's the leader."

"Awh, Sapnap, don't you think I'd make a good leader?"

Sapnap gave him a flat look. He seemed to get the message. 

"Good point."

Sapnap hummed. "Regardless, I'd never be on a team with you. We're not friends."

Dream was quiet. The shorter sighed in frustration.

"Can you just tell me what it is? I feel like you know something I don't and it's pissing me off."

The dirty blond seemed taken aback by the sudden outburst, although his stupid mask betrayed nothing. His mouth opened, ready to give Sapnap the answer he was apparently so desperate for, but nothing came. Frustrated, Sapnap finished off his bow and all but threw it at George. 

"There you go, George," he said, standing up. "Dream and I are going to go take a little walk."

"You are?" George asked, sounding surprised and almost panicked. Dream said nothing. 

"Yep," Sapnap answered stiffly, starting to walk further into the jungle.

"Wait a minute," Dream suddenly said. "I'm not coming unless you leave that here."

Sapnap looked down at where Dream was pointing, scowling at the other man when he realised he meant the axe attached to his belt.

"What makes you think you can tell me to do shit?"

Dream shrugged, "you can't make me do anything either."

"Like hell I can," Sapnap shot back with a frown. Dream put his hands in front of him, taking a small step back.

"I won't do anything to you, I just want the same guarantee."

Huffing with annoyance, Sapnap unhooked his axe and set it against a log before looking back to Dream with an "is that enough for you?" look on his face. A small smile was on Dream's face, as if the gesture meant something more than it actually was, before he turned and walked through the bushes bordering their camp and deeper into the jungle.

The two men walked deeper into the jungle forest, with Sapnap taking glances back towards the bright green shrubbery hiding their camp every once in a while. He wanted to be far enough away so that his friends couldn't hear them, but close enough that he could call someone to him in an emergency. George wasn't allowed to get up while his foot was healing, which was something they had learned from an obnoxiously long lecture from Dream, and Bad was sleeping, so they probably would be good right about...

"Here," he stated, stopping in place. They were in a small clearing barricaded partially by thick bushes. The early afternoon sun piercing through the canopy above them speckled the ground with pale light, and somewhere deeper in the jungle the squawks and calls of parrots could be heard. Dream looked towards Sapnap, leaning back against a short jungle tree that probably wouldn't get enough sun to make it to next winter. 

"Well?" the blond man prompted. Sapnap frowned with annoyance and shoving his hands into his pockets before repeating the man's word. Dream's lips quirked to the side slightly, as if he wasn't sure whether to smile or frown.

"Well, what do you want from me?"

"I already told you," Sapnap said, staring at the simple mask unwaveringly. "Tell me what you know that I don't."

Dream laughed, but it didn't sound as confident and solid as it had before. If Sapnap were to say anything, he'd say that the other man sounded nervous. But about what?

"I probably know a lot of things you don't," the taller said smoothly. Sapnap wished he could just rip off the mask and see exactly whatever Dream was feeling, see his emotions pool in whatever colour his eyes were. Or, at the very least, see the slightest shifts in his expression and the smallest wrinkles in his face.

Instead, he just scowled, saying, "You know what I mean."

Dream seemed amused. "No, I don't believe I do."

"Acting like you know something that I don't! And knowing my name! Fucking tell me what it is, cause now I'm worried that I once knew _you,_ " Sapnap hissed.

"Oh, I should have known, goody little hunter Sapnap hates that he once was friends with a _monster_ ," Dream snarked back, an ugly frown gracing his partially hidden face. Sapnap felt a bit of private glee that Dream had been faking the relaxed demeanour all along.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," the shorter spat. "You are a monster, Dream."

Dream twitched. 

"And you were friends with me," he said coldly. 

"Really?" Sapnap asked. "Who are you really, Dream?"

Dream didn't reply. 

' _Fucking coward, just tell me,_ ' Sapnap thought. 

"Why won't you tell me? Are you scared?" Sapnap was pleased with how level his voice was.

"Of you? Hell no," Dream shot back. 

"Then what is it? Have you been lying this whole time?" 

Dream sighed, "No, it's just..."

"What's your name?" Sapnap demanded. Dream mumbled something. 

"What was that?" the shorter asked. Dream's head lifted, the smiling mask taunting him with the knowledge that it hid an identity he desperately wanted to know. 

"Clay, Nick," Dream said quietly. "I'm Clay."

Sapnap froze, staring at the taller man in disbelief. It couldn't really be him, could it? But how else would Dream know that name? His eyes quickly scanned what he could see of Dream. Could Clay really have grown into this? Was the Clay he had known really capable of all the shit Dream had done?

"Take off your mask," he said, his voice so quiet he himself could barely hear it. He felt so incredibly weak all of a sudden. 

"What?" Dream asked. He sounded unsure and nervous, a clear remnant of the kid who left home and left Sapnap all alone.

"Take off your mask!" Sapnap yelled, shivering as a chill came and went. 

The other man hesitated but brought his hands up to the pale mask, fingers shaking slightly as they pushed it up to reveal the hidden face. Green, painfully familiar eyes watched Sapnap warily as Dream lifted the mask clean off his face, holding it tightly even as his arms came down to rest at his sides. Sapnap felt his eyes widen as he saw what had once been his friend.

He didn't know what to do. 

"Nick..." Dream started, his voice trailing off. Green eyes flicked around anxiously, refusing to meet Sapnap's.

"It really is you," Sapnap whispered, dark eyes scanning every tiny feature of Dream's face. The green-eyed man seemed unsure as to whether or not this revelation was a good thing. Sapnap wasn't sure either. His vision blurred. His body ached. 

Someone was screaming. Someone so, so far away. 

Clay had left him. Nick wanted to hurt him, make him feel even part of the pain he felt knowing that his friend had abandoned him and had only come back home to kill nearly everyone he had known. He almost wished that he had been home when it had happened. Maybe he could have changed how things had gone, or at least went with the rest and been free of the guilt he had to carry. 

Was he still breathing? Fire burned within him, swallowing up anything it could. Where had it come from? It hurt so much. 

"Sapnap!" A familiar voice, but one he couldn't quite identify. His vision started coming back, showing him the greens and browns of the jungle. He hadn't even noticed that it had gone. 

"Sapnap?" the voice asked, quiet and concerned. A groan escaped his open mouth, making him wince. He was so tired. So weak.

"Dream, are you okay?" the person asked, receiving a muffled reply. Sapnap blinked, staring up at the sliver of pale grey sky he could see. Someone near him shifted and a pale face stared down at him. 

"Are you okay?" Bad asked worriedly. 

' _So tired_ ,' Sapnap thought, his eyes slipping shut. A gentle hand shook his shoulder and Sapnap suddenly became aware of how sore he was. A rock was digging into his back, and what must have been a branch was poking him in the side. His knuckles felt like they were burning, but he didn't know why. There was something wet on them too, but he didn't know where that had come from either. His thoughts lazily drifted back to Clay.

He sat bolt upright, almost crying out in pain as he did. Bad stared at him, some mixture of worry and fear in his eyes. 

"He killed them," Sapnap panted, tears welling up in his eyes. His friend's eyes softened and he reached out to place a careful hand on Sapnap's shoulder.

"Who killed who?" he asked gently. The younger's eyes darted from the ground to his friend. 

"Dream," he replied in a whisper. "Clay. He killed them. He killed them all."

Bad looked confused, which didn't make any sense. Sapnap had said exactly what he knew.

"Sapnap," the older seemed hesitant, "are you okay?"

"I was the only one who got away," he whispered, his vision swimming as everything fell away. 

So, so tired.


	32. Powder

The bushes near the camp's edge rustled as someone stumbled through them, Flame mewing loudly at the newcomer. George looked up, getting up as fast as he could when he noticed Dream's slouched posture and the mask that was only barely covering his face. The taller stumbled over to the log Sapnap and Bad had been using and dropped down to lean against it. 

"Gods, are you okay?" George quickly said, limping over to the taller's side and sitting down. Flame got there faster and began to paw at Dream's arm, receiving a small smile from the man in return. "Is Sapnap okay? We heard you screaming, Bad must have run over there so Sapnap's probably going to be fine, maybe. Did you hurt him? Did he hurt you?"

Dream coughed roughly, his head lolling to the side so he was looking at George. His mask slid a little further towards the ground and George brought his hands up to fix it. Had Dream taken it off? It was still fastened, but the positioning of the band was all lopsided.

"Don't," Dream said hoarsely, stopping George's hands mid-journey. "I'd rather you not, you might hurt me more."

"Hurt you?" the brunet asked, his hands dropping down to the ground. "Are you okay?"

"Obviously I'm not fucking okay, George," Dream spat, sighing before speaking again with a more gentle tone, hand instinctively starting to pet the patchy cat by his side, "sorry, it's just...eh, thought that would go a bit better than it did. Can you get two blaze rods?"

"What might go better?" George asked, shuffling over on his knees to the bright blue bag near them and grabbing two glowing rods.

"Get some cobblestone too, and a crafting table," Dream called. "And Sapnap and I just had a little talk, I guess. Get to know each other a bit better, you know?"

"No, I don't know," the other replied, coming back and sitting by the taller with the requested materials. "Unless you were getting better acquainted with each other's one-on-one fighting abilities, I don't know how you ended up like this after a little talk."

Dream chuckled and shifted slightly, the mask moving a bit further down. This time the faceless man seemed to get a bit self-conscious, as his hands reached up to adjust it so it covered most of his face again. He seemed to be carefully avoiding something, placing the mask down lower than usual so the highest part would be right above his nose. "I guess there was a bit more than talking."

"Is Sapnap okay?" George asked, following Dream's indication and placing the crafting table down. 

"Can I have three cobblestone and a rod?" Dream asked. His voice was still a bit rough, but it was closer to normal now. George did as asked. "I think he's okay, I didn't really get to see much. Your other friend walked in and all I could think about was hiding my face."

"You had your mask off?" the other questioned, watching as the blond awkwardly made something he had never seen before. He had a guess as to what it was.

"Is that a brewing stand?" he asked again. 

"You're asking a lot of questions there, Georgie," Dream replied with a smile, finishing off the stand and pulling it off the table. "It is, do you have any bottles?"

"I don't think so," the brunet replied with a frown. Dream hummed shortly. 

"I think we passed a small pond with some sand in it, I could go get that."

George frowned again, "I don't think you should be getting up."

"And I _know_ you shouldn't be," the other countered, getting up to his feet and fixing his mask before walking out of the small campsite. The brunet sighed but relented, instead using the remaining cobblestone to craft a furnace he knew would be in use soon. 

"Look at that, easy peasy," Dream announced when he came back with a few clumps of sand. "I even got to wash my face a bit so there wasn't blood everywhere."

"Can you grab some coal from my bag? I think I got some in there," George said. Dream huffed dramatically and dug into the blue bag until he found some coal. 

"Can't believe you ignore me like this, Georgie," he complained, sitting down by the furnace and shoving both sand and coal into it. George simply rolled his eyes and smiled.

"As always, don't call me that."

The two men simply waited for the sand to smelt into glass, with Dream going out once more to go grab melon from the jungle and some gold nuggets from his bag ("you'll see what it's for, chill") and George shuffling over to his bag in annoyance when Dream remembered that netherwart was needed too ("it's hard to remember these things off the top of your head!"). Finally, when all was done and the bottles were crafted, George looked to Dream expectedly.

"Now what?" he asked with amusement. From the small frown on Dream's face, he looked to be in deep thought. 

"Calm down, dude, I learned about this potion years ago in a book I found in a weird village house's basement."

"And you can remember it at all?"

Dream looked at him with a grin, "figured it might be important one day."

George rolled his eyes and smiled, "alright, so what now?"

"Bottles in here," Dream tapped the bottles locked into the stand, "and then netherwart in here," he tapped the small compartment where the netherwart had been placed, "and for the fuel we need blaze powder! Where's that other rod?"

George handed it to him, watching curiously as Dream placed it on the crafting table and carefully ground it into a fine powder before scooping it up and pouring it into a small tray near the bottom of the brewing stand. The powder vanished and the brewing stand sprung to life, a small glow emitting from the base as the water in the bottles slowly began to change colour. 

"So what are we making?" George asked as the two men waited for the netherrack to be completely used. It was, perhaps, a bit late to ask.

"Health potion," Dream replied. "It'll help me, and maybe Sapnap will need it too."

"Oh shit, Sapnap," George exclaimed. "And Bad! Where are they? Hasn't it been too long?"

Dream looked up towards the sky, probably looking at the sun. "Maybe."

"Should we go look for them?" the brunet asked anxiously. Dream slowly shook his head.

"Not yet. You still shouldn't be getting up. I know Sapnap passed out, but I don't know why, so maybe Bad is waiting until he wakes up."

"Maybe," George murmured, looking at the bottles again. He frowned. "That's, like, blue. What the hell did you make?"

"I don't remember what they're called," Dream answered dismissively, crafting together a melon slice and some gold nuggets before placing the strange-looking result where the netherwart had been. "We'll get there soon enough, though."

They went quiet as the potions brewed. George was itching to ask Dream questions, but he didn't know if the other man would answer them.

"So, um," he said awkwardly. "What happened with you and Sapnap?"

Dream tensed at the abrupt ask, before relaxing and scratching at the back of his neck nervously, "well, I told him some stuff. He didn't take it too well. He started hitting me, which I didn't expect, and I didn't want to hit him back. Then he passed out."

"Oh," George said quietly. Dream nodded solemnly.

"He hasn't been feeling too well, has he?"

The brunet shook his head, "Bad said he got hit by a wither skeleton in the fortress. I guess the effect has just been taking him over faster than I thought."

"Hm," Dream hummed thoughtfully. "Would a health potion take care of that?"

George shook his head hesitantly, "no, it would heal some immediate effects but not rid his body of it entirely. As far as I know, the only whole cure to serious effects like the wither is milk."

Dream snorted, "that's kinda weird. Cows don't even spawn in the nether, why would it work like that?"

George shrugged, "don't ask me, I don't make the rules of this world."

"You seem to know them pretty well though," Dream said, staring at the slowly-changing potions. George laughed shortly.

"Not really, I just know a few things here and there."

"Better than nothing," the blond replied. The other snorted.

"Of course knowing something is better than nothing."

He couldn't see Dream's eyes, but George would bet five diamonds that he was rolling them. 

"You know what I mean."

"I'm afraid I don't, Sir Dream," the other replied, thickening his accent to sound more snooty. Dream laughed, coughing afterwards.

"Sucks for you then," he said with amusement. They quieted after that, before George brought up another one of his questions.

"Are you still scared about showing me your face?"

Dream sighed gently, reaching up to ruffle his hair. 

"I don't know, maybe."

"Would you have taken your mask off if we didn't have potion stuff?"

"If you had to fix me up?" Dream pretended to be deep in thought. "I dunno, you might mess me up more."

George lightly slapped Dream's leg, eliciting a dramatic gasp out of the other, "George, I am an injured man!"

"So am I, idiot," the other said, rolling his eyes. 

"Oh shit, I almost forgot about that." George lifted an eyebrow at Dream's response.

"I've been shuffling to and from my bag and you forgot I was injured?"

"Maybe," Dream replied, with a tone that suggested otherwise. The taller reached over to grab one of the now finished potions, handing it to George. "You should drink one too then. It'll fix you right up."

George took it without another word, drinking the sweet liquid quickly. When he was done, he smacked his lips and smiled brightly.

"Much better," he said, looking at Dream. The other man had a small smile on his face, and he quickly lifted his own bottle to drink. When he was done, he nodded.

"Much better indeed," the blond replied, standing up to stretch. George followed his lead, taking care to stretch his foot. There was a rustling at the bushes, ushering in the entrance of a worried-looking Bad and a Sapnap that didn't seem to be quite conscious yet.

"George, what are you doing on your feet?" Bad immediately said, looking between the two men with a panicked expression. Sapnap mumbled something incoherent, leaning into Bad further and somehow nearly falling forwards in the process despite Bad's iron grip on his side.

"Dream and I brewed some health potions," George explained, pointing at the brewing stand. Bad looked horrified.

"George, that's illegal!" he squeaked, carefully manuvering Sapnap towards the large tree edging into the clearing and sitting him down against it. 

"Bad, I think we're outside the reach of the law," George replied, crossing his arms. "Out here, we might even be the law."

"Maybe, but don't go doing these sorts of things when we're back," the older replied, shooting a look at both Dream and George. The two men looked at each other and shrugged.

"We're going to have to find some milk for Sapnap," Bad continued, his speech hurried. 

"Well we're never going to find any cows in the middle of the freezing Death," George answered. Worrying his lower lip, Bad shook his head.

"You're right, you're right," he said, looking at the youngest with a defeated look on his face.

"What if we go find a village?" Dream piped up, crouching down to pick up Flame and hoist them onto his shoulders. Hazel eyes locked on Dream's mask, regarding him with more caution than he had previously. 

"How are we going to find one?" Bad questioned. Dream hummed thoughtfully.

"Don't you guys have a magic compass or something?"

"Oh!" Bad reached for his belt and grabbed the compass. "Yeah, maybe that'll work."

The men were quiet as the oldest stared at the instrument with a small frown on his face, a frown that soon turned into eager smile. 

"Alright, it's locked onto something. I'm only thinking about the village, so hopefully that's where it's pointing."

"Good," George stated, looking towards the newly unconscious Sapnap. "We should get going soon."

"Yes, yes," Bad replied. "Let's pack up what we have and go."

The men gathered up what little they had left, packing up the brewing stand and various other items they had left strewn around. Bad had not said another word about the illegal contraption, but the other two could tell he was still anxious about it. 

"We'll have to put it away somewhere when we get to the village," George whispered after Bad had stepped out to scout an easy path for them to follow. Dream nodded. 

"How do you think I should go in?" Dream said in the same hushed tone. The brunet paused. He hadn't thought about that. 

"Uh," he felt nervous about asking that Dream take his mask off when they got to the village, "I guess we'll figure that out along the way. Maybe Bad will have an idea."

Dream huffed. "He's probably gonna make me stay out of it and sit in a tree somewhere or some shit."

"Hey," George joked, "that wouldn't be too bad of an idea."

The other man pouted exaggeratedly. "I want to come in with you guys though! A team-building exercise, as they say."

George laughed awkwardly, "I'm betting you haven't done many of those, with that reply."

Dream hummed before replying, "Why do them if you don't need them? When I was younger, everyone knew everyone pretty well. Small villages are like that, I guess."

"So why'd you leave?"

The taller sighed, pausing for a moment before answering, "it's a bit complicated, I guess?"

"I get that," George said. 

"You do?" Dream sounded a bit surprised. The brunet grinned. 

"You think I grew up around here?" 

Even though the mask still covered most of his face, George could see the flushed tint to Dream's skin that showed he was embarrassed.

"Forgot about that," the blond murmured. The other man snorted with amusement. 

"Been forgetting a lot of things lately, ay Dreamie?" he teased, receiving a wheezing laugh from the other. 

"'Dreamie,' huh?" Dream said, shaking his head. "But maybe, I dunno what it is. Things have been weird lately, I guess."

And George could only nod. 


End file.
